


The Crow and His Princess

by xBlackxRosexRebellionx



Series: The Women of SAMCRO [4]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Changing It Up A Bit, Different Husband for Gemma, Different Leader for SAMCRO, F/M, Herman Kozik/Kensi Malone Endgame, I'm Doing My Own Thing, Kensi Is Definitely Gemma Teller Malone's Daughter, Kensi is Stubborn and Doesn't Want to Let Any Alpha Claim Her Until She's Damn Good and Ready, Minor Kensi/Jughead, Minor Kensi/Original Male Character, Not Necessarily Cannon Compliant, Wrong Number Fiction, rating will go up with later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 17:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xBlackxRosexRebellionx/pseuds/xBlackxRosexRebellionx
Summary: Kensi Malone is trying to make her own way in a world that is shadowed by the reputation of her mother, her father, her half-brother, and the rest of her "extended family". She's made herself a promise that she will not let any alpha claim her unless he meets her standards - and ONLY when she's damn good and ready. She's also vowed that she will NEVER date a Son. But then she gets a text from a man who claims to have texted the wrong number and everything begins to change. This  man is unlike any alpha she has ever met. He's charming and funny, witty and clever. He's friendly and playful, making conversations with him seem so effortless. It feels as if she has known this alpha for years, and the longer she spends talking to him, the more sure she is that she could fall for an alpha like him.Herman Kozik has always been the lone wolf, but his inner alpha longs for that connection. He finds it in a mysterious young woman when he accidently texts the wrong number. The more they talk, the more intrigued he finds that he has become with the feisty little omega. But can he truly open up to her? Can he tell her who he is without scaring her away? He'll find out soon enough when he gets relocated to Charming, her hometown.
Relationships: Brief Jughead Jones/Original Female Character, Brief Original Male Character/Original Female Character, Herman Kozik/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Women of SAMCRO [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528529
Kudos: 2





	1. Wrong Number

So, it has recently been brought to my attention that I am not the only Kozik fan out there. It has _also_ been brought to my attention that there are _very_ few Kozik-related stories out there. I, for one, think that his character was not only an interesting one, but probably one of the most relatable characters in the history of the show – a man who had faced his fair share of struggles in the past but who was working hard to overcome them and steer clear of them in the future. He was one of the kinder, gentler souls from the show and his character was second only in his humor to Chibs himself. I wholeheartedly agree with the actor who played his character, Kenny Johnson, that Kozik was killed off too soon and that his character could have been fleshed out further if he had just had more time on the show – but Kurt wrote him out of the show, due to a scheduling conflict that Kenny himself had been willing to work with him on, even volunteering to spend what little time he had between filming another movie working on the set of Sons of Anarchy. But I digress.

My point is, I wanted to take this opportunity to write my own story about Kozik’s character so that I could not only flesh him out further but to also give him an opportunity to thrive in the world of Sons of Anarchy. I chose to do that by means of using a piece of technology that we are all very familiar – and, in some cases, very _attached_ to, both literally _and_ metaphorically speaking. This story will revolve quite a bit around the use of cell phones and text messages. That being said, not all of the content in the story is written in text format. Some of it will be written in regular paragraphs. And, do not fear, Kozik and Kensi will eventually meet in person and pursue an actual, physical relationship, not just one that they will come to establish through text messages that was brought around by Kozik accidently texting the wrong number.

Also, just another side note before you read, I have changed some things up in the Sons of Anarchy universe. It’s no surprise to any of you that I have always disliked Clay’s character with a passion – not the actor himself, but the character in the show. So, while John Teller still remains Jax’s biological father, for the purpose of this story, Clay has been completely written out of the story and replaced with an original character of my own design named Marcus Malone. Kensi, the main character, is the daughter of Gemma Teller-Malone and Marcus Malone, who she married a few years after John’s death. Marcus was the one who replaced John at the head of the table as the President of the club, not Clay. Other than that, all of the familiar faces – and maybe a few new ones – are included. I have also snitched Jughead Jones from Riverdale, Priestly from Ten Inch Hero, and Klaus Hargreeves from Umbrella Academy – all of which I would recommend that you go watch, but none of which are required viewing material to understand the events found within this particular story.

Now, without further ado, I will shut up and let you read on.

**_The Crow and His Princess_ **

****

** Chapter 1: Wrong Number **

Kensi Malone was just shuffling back into the living room to kick start her weekend with a scary movie marathon, a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a bottle of Mountain Dew in the other, when her phone went off.

She rolled her eyes as she set her things down on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. She snagged the microfleece blanket she kept on the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself before grabbing her phone off the coffee table and pulling up the new message she had just received.

_Mac: You sure you don’t wanna come out with us, chica?_

Kensi rolled her eyes and shook her head, replying, _No, Mac. I’m fine. It’s been a long, crazy week and I just want to hibernate for the weekend. But thanks for asking._

Her phone buzzed just a few seconds later.

_Mac: All right. Stay safe, chica. Hit me up if you need anything._

She gave a single snort of laughter at that, shaking her head, and texted back, _Will do._

The man had been hitting on her for _months,_ but he still had yet to make a move. But, with Gemma Teller-Malone for a mother, who could blame him? She supposed she was doomed to a life of solidarity. No man would ever have the balls to fuck her, much less date her.

She set her phone beside her on the couch and grabbed the remote, pressing play and snuggling down into her blanket as the opening credits for Silent Hill: Revelations started to play across the screen.

Her phone buzzed once more, and she sighed. Maybe she should just turn the damn thing off.

She checked to see who the message was from, her lips curling up into a smile as she discovered that it was from one of her workers there at the coffee shop, Jughead Jones. He’d been her best friend since grade school and the two had become partners in crime over the years. He had been her first choice of employees when she had decided to open her coffee shop there on the square in Charming, California, along with their newly mutual friend, Klaus Hargreeves, a “humorous but homosexual young man that was on a journey for self-discovery”, as he had introduced himself almost three years ago when Kensi had been doing interviews for potential employees. And then there was Priestly, the tattooed, sarcastic cynic that had a seemingly endless supply of t-shirts with witty but dirty-minded memes written on the front of them. Her only other employee was Halle Daniels, her closest childhood friend and confidante, who Priestly had just so happened to be jonesing for for the past two years – and, despite the fact that she would never give her best friend’s secrets up, Kensi just so happened to know that Halle was secretly crushing on the punk who used a different color of hair glue to style that unruly fauxhawk every day as well. The crew of misfits made a better team than Kensi could have ever imagined. In fact, they were practically a family now.

So, it was with a smile that Kensi pulled open her messages and read the one that Jug had sent her.

_Jug: Hey, I know you said you just want a nice weekend in to yourself and we BOTH know that you have a whole weekend of scary movies and junk food planned, but if you change your mind and you want your wingman, just let me know._

_Jug, I’m FINE. I promise. Besides, I’m sure you’ll have your hands full babysitting Klaus. I doubt Halle and Priestly will be of much use by the end of the night either. Good luck to you, by the way, you brave little soul. I don’t envy you that job. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have horror movies to binge watch and a bowl of popcorn to make disappear._

She set her phone back down beside her, contemplating, once again, about just shutting the damn thing off. This was supposed to be her night in, her little retreat to regather her sanity after a hectic week in the shop and dealing with the bullshit that came with the Teller-Malone family. Jax was feuding with Tara again, her mother didn’t agree with one of the decisions that her father had made involving the last run the club had made, and her father had wound up deciding to stay at the clubhouse for the weekend to get away from said angry woman. On top of that, Mac had promised to actually take her out on a date last weekend, only to cancel last minute, and now he was texting her as if nothing had ever happened. Halle, Klaus, Priestly, and Jughead had teamed up on her right there at her own coffee shop and practically _begged_ her to go to the new club that had just opened there in town that night, but Kensi had declined, stating that she just wanted one weekend to herself for a change. And now that she finally had it, no one would leave her alone.

She sighed. Just another day in Charming, California.

She had actually made it halfway through the second movie on her list when her phone went off again beside her on the couch. She reached out for it, blindly batting at the spot on the sofa beside her without pulling her eyes from the screen until she found it. She brought it up and typed in her passcode to pull up her text messages. Her dark brows furrowed when she realized that the message had come from an unknown number. She frowned at that. Who the hell would be texting her at 10:00 on Halloween night? Her friends were probably already halfway drunk by now and Mac had probably moved on to another girl since she’d turned him down tonight. Jax and Gemma were taking Abel out trick-or-treating. The club was having their own party there at the clubhouse and she was sure that her father and all of the other members of SAMCRO were in full-fledged party mode by now. So, who the hell could it _possibly_ be?

She pulled it open, her curiosity getting the best of her, and read the message.

_Unknown Number: Hey, man, that movie you recommended? It was SHIT._

Kensi actually laughed at that, replying, _I think you have the wrong number, but I’m sorry to hear that your friend has shitty taste in movies._

She set her phone on her lap, knowing that, most likely, the person would probably apologize to her for having texted the wrong person and then go about their merry way.

_Unknown Number: Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to text this number. My friend’s number is just one digit off from yours. Big thumbs got the best of me._

She giggled, shaking her head, and replied, _Happens to the best of us._

Another message came back, just seconds later.

_Unknown Number: Yes, I’m afraid it does. So, if you’re not Willy, can I ask who are you?_

_I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say,_ she replied, a smile curling at her lips as her fingers tapped over the keys.

_Unknown Number: Ahh… So, you’re like some super-secret ninja assassin or something?_

_I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,_ she texted back, her smile stretching even further across her face.

Whoever this guy – at least she _assumed_ that it was a guy – was, he was certainly entertaining. In fact, she found their little banter to be rather amusing.

_Unknown Number: I KNEW it! Are you at least like some hot spy chick? Cause that would be really cool._

_Kensi: That’s classified, I’m afraid._

_Unknown Number: I see. Well, Miss or Mr. Classified, what are you doing texting a guy like me on Halloween night? Shouldn’t you be out with your friends?_

Kensi smiled at that. He had just confirmed that he was, in fact, a man.

_Kensi: Well, you DID text me first._ _And, for the record, I was invited out by said friends, but I chose to stay home. I work too damn much during the week and it’s been a rather long and hectic week so far. So, I chose to take the more peaceful route and hibernate for the rest of the weekend._

_Unknown Number: Ahh… So, you ARE a girl?_

_Kensi: I never said that. Maybe I’m a grandma from Cincinnati and I enjoy needle point and crossword puzzles in my spare time._

_Not likely,_ Mr. Mysterious bantered playfully before another text came through.

_Unknown Number:_ _But if that IS the case, I’m sure my 90 year old grandma would love some company on Bingo Night. Besides, you can’t be from Cincinnati, you have a California zip code for your phone._

Kensi couldn’t help but laugh at that. He certainly had a good sense of humor. She wished she could say that for more of her father’s club members.

_Kensi: Well, I’ll have to tell your grandma hello at our next Bingo Night then._

_I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours,_ he tried to bargain with her.

_I don’t think that’s a good idea,_ she answered truthfully.

It wasn’t completely out of the question for someone to try to use her to gain leverage against her mother, her half-brother, or her father. It wouldn’t be the first time someone or some club had tried it before, and she was sure that it wouldn’t be the last. It was best to play it on the safe side.

_Unknown Number: You’re probably right._ _I’d hate to have to try to explain to my buddies how I was attacked by a super-secret 90 year old ninja assassin. That might be a little embarrassing._

Kensi couldn’t help but laugh as she typed back, _No. I can’t imagine they’d take it too well. You’d be the laughing stock of the town for decades._

_No doubt,_ he agreed just before another text came through.

_Unknown Number:_ _So, if you’re “hibernating” this weekend and you’ve got such good taste in movies, can you recommend something Halloween-ish for me?_

_Absolutely,_ she reassured him, before sending another text through.

_Kensi:_ _I’m a total horror movie junkie. I have quite the collection to be honest. I’m not really sure what kind of stuff you’re into, but I LOVE the Silent Hill movies – although, I have to say, I think the second one is better than the first one. I love Rob Zombie’s remakes of the Halloween movies, but the old ones by Carpenter are classics too. The old Friday the 13th movies are great. The remake of My Bloody Valentine is pretty good. Hmm… Let me just pause my movie and go check out my collection._

His response came quickly, and she opened the message to read, _Wow. For a chick, you have REALLY good taste in movies._

_Kensi: I’ll take that as a compliment… I think?_

_Unknown Number: Yeah. It was definitely a compliment._

_Kensi: Well, have you watched either of the newer Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies? I liked Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning better, because it gives you a bit of a backstory for Leatherface. That’s the same reason why I like Rob Zombie’s remakes of Halloween. I know it probably sounds creepy, but I find criminal psychology to be completely fascinating. I love being able to get into a villain’s head and pick their brain. It’s not really the crimes they commit that I find interesting, it’s what’s going on up there in their head._

_Unknown Number: Ahh… So, I’m talking to a brilliant mind then? A super sneaky ninja assassin with a doctorate’s degree in psychology? Nothing hotter than a badass chick with a big brain._

Kensi laughed, shaking her head as she pomped a squat on the floor next to the large shelving unit that her father had installed to hold her extensive movie collection for her.

_Well, you’re quite the Casanova, aren’t you?_ she texted back before typing out another text, trying to get him back on topic.

_Kensi:_ _Movies, Mr. Smooth, movies. Focus here. Now, have you seen any of the Chucky movies? Most of those are pretty good._

_Unknown Number: Yeah, I’ve seen most of those._

_Kensi: What about the Pumpkin Head movies? Those were GREAT. Or the Jeepers Creepers movies? Well, maybe not the third one. It sucked. But the first two were good._

_Unknown Number: I’ve seen the first two Jeepers Creepers movies. They were good. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of the Pumpkin Head movies though. I’ll have to write those down._

_Kensi: What about the Descent movies? There are two of those. If those don’t make you jump, NOTHING will._

_Wrong Number: I’ll add those to the list._

_Kensi: What about the Resident Evil movies or the Underworld movies?_

_Unknown Number: I LOVE the Resident Evil movies. And who HASN’T watched Underworld? I mean two words: Kate Beckinsale._

Kensi rolled her eyes at that. Leave it to a man to watch movies for the actresses in them. Then again, she was guilty of watching some movies because of the actors in them. She supposed it was one in the same.

She continued to let her eyes browse over the titles on her shelf, texting back, _Well let’s see what else there is… I Frankenstein is really good._

_Unknown Number: I haven’t heard of that one. I’ll have to check it out._

_Kensi: Have you watched any horror-related TV shows? There are some pretty good ones out there. Supernatural is great – well, at least the first 6 seasons are. I thought it started dwindling off after that. It just didn’t seem to have a purpose anymore after season 6 wrapped. But I would definitely recommend the first 6 seasons._

_Unknown Number: No. I haven’t watched that. I’ll definitely have to check it out. Is there anything else that you would recommend?_

_Kensi: American Horror Story: Murder House, Coven, and Freak Show. I didn’t think the others were quite as good._

_Unknown Number: Got it. I’ll add it to the list._

_Kensi: Have you watched any of The Walking Dead?_

_Wrong Number: I did, but I stopped watching after season 4. I just didn’t like the direction they were taking most of the characters in. I felt like they were keeping characters around that should’ve died in season 1 or 2 but they were killing off the characters that I liked. I just couldn’t stand to watch it anymore._

_Kensi: No, I TOTALLY agree. I stopped watching it after season 4 too. I’ve heard friends talk about later seasons though and it sounds like the show is really starting to piss the viewers off._

_Unknown Number: Yeah. It looks like it’s leaning that way. Thanks for the recommendations, by the way._

_Kensi: No problem._

_Unknown Number: So, we know your taste in movies is awesome. What’s your taste in music like?_

_Well,_ she typed back as she got up to walk back over to the couch and curl up again, getting all settled in with her blanket before she continued to type, _I love this band called Neffex. I like to jam to Hollywood Undead or Post Malone or Papa Roach in the car. I love Halsey’s music too. But when I was in high school, I was a classic rock junkie. I loved ZZ Top and AC/DC and Bon Jovi, Motley Crue and Poison. I listened to Rob Zombie a lot in high school too. When I went to college, I listened to mostly rap with my friends, but I liked to listen to U2 or Ellie Goulding in my downtime. It was something mellower that I could keep going in the background while I worked on homework or a paper or something._

_Unknown Number: So, you DID go to college then?_

_Kensi: Yeah. It wasn’t really my idea. It was my mom’s dream, for me to go to college. She never went and school never really was my brother’s priority, so she wanted at least one of her kids to get a higher education. I suppose it wasn’t too bad though. I survived anyway._

_Unknown Number: Nothing wrong with that. Most guys would rather have a girl that’s got something going on between the ears anyway. Or, well, I do anyway. Superficial chicks just don’t do it for me. I know a lot of my buddies don’t care if they can hold a proper conversation with a woman. They just want an easy lay. But I like a girl that I can have an actual conversation with._

Kensi smiled at that. Most of the men she knew weren’t anything like that. They were like what he described his friends to be – only interested in the package for the wrapping, not what was inside.

_Kensi: Some of the classes were AWFUL, but I enjoyed most of the classes I took. It helps if you study something you love._

_Unknown Number: Oh? What did you take?_

_Kensi: I majored in psychology and minored in creative writing. Mom hated it that I didn’t take something that I could “apply to the real world”. But math was always my worst subject and I couldn’t hack chemistry or calculus._

_Unknown Number: Yeah, I don’t blame you there. I have to say though, that’s pretty hot. A chick that can run circles around my brain is kinda kinky. ;)_

Kensi giggled at that, shaking her head as she read his text message before she replied, _For most guys these days – especially the ones that hang out with my brother and my dad – that’s not hard._

_Unknown Number: Hey now. Go easy on the feels._

_Kensi: Oh, I’m sorry._ _Did I hurt your little feels? :P_

_Unknown Number: Hurt them? Hell no! You completely flattened them! Ran over them with a fucking Mac truck!_

Kensi got a good laugh out of that.

_Unknown Number: So, what else are you into? We know you have an awesome movie collection and your taste in music sounds pretty impressive too, although, I have to admit, I’ve never heard of Hollywood Undead or Neffex. But I’ll be looking them up later tonight._

_Kensi: I bet you will._

_Unknown Number: I will. But, as I was saying, we know you love “picking people’s brains” and you like creative writing. What do you do for a living? Are you a shrink or something?_

Kensi laughed again.

_Kensi: No. As much as I would’ve loved to be a criminal psychologist, I didn’t go on for a doctorate’s degree. I stopped after I got my bachelor’s. Believe it or not, I own my own coffee shop. Pretty boring, I know._

_Unknown Number: Not at all! I don’t know too many women that own their own business already. You must be a pretty motivated woman to do something like that._

_Kensi: Well, to be honest, I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to do when I got out of college. I knew I didn’t really want to get into the family business. It’s just… Well, it’s not really my thing. I love my family, but it’s not for me. I knew what I wanted to do before I even graduated from college, but my mom said that I had to finish my degree before she’d help me get started up. Hell, I’ve wanted to open my own coffee shop since my freshman year of college. So that’s what I did. My mom helped me get a loan to start it up a month after I graduated from college and I hired a couple of my best friends and a rather quirky but amusing couple of individuals to help me run the shop. Now we sell all kinds of coffee and baked goods. We’ve been open for almost three years now._

It took him a few minutes to reply after that, so she chose to take the opportunity to head into the kitchen and rinse out her popcorn bowl, leaving it in the sink and opting to wash it in the morning.

When his message finally came through, she smiled to herself as she read the words, _Well, it sounds like you have it all worked out then. It’s nice to see a woman that knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go for it. It’s kinda sexy. Is it something that you enjoy?_

_I really do,_ she admitted before sending another text to follow it.

_Kensi:_ _It’s something that I’ve wanted to do for a while now. I’ve always loved coffee and I absolutely love baking. Granted, I’ll admit I hate the clean-up that comes with it, but who actually ENJOYS doing dishes? Let’s be honest._

_Unknown Number: You raise a good point._

_Kensi: Of course I do._

_Unknown Number: Well, if you graduated 3 years ago, that would make you… What? 25?_

_Kensi: I turned 25 in May._

_You don’t even want to know how old I am,_ he replied.

_Why are you ancient or something?_ she teased before deciding to add another little jibe in there.

_Kensi:_ _Do you belong in the Smithsonian?_

_Unknown Number: Haha. Very funny. No, I’m not a fossil. Not yet anyway. I’m 35._

So, he was 10 years older than her. She had honestly expected some high school guy or a frat boy. But she couldn’t deny that she had always been attracted to older men.

_So? Age it just a number. You’re only as old as you feel,_ she told him.

He was quick to respond, texting, _I’ll have to remember that. Some days, my joints try to tell me that I’m 90._

Kensi laughed at that, deciding to shuffle on down the hall and run herself a nice, hot bath. She’d always loved a good soak in the tub, _especially_ when there was bubble bath involved.

_So, what do YOU do for a living?_ she asked him.

_Well, I served in the Marines,_ he replied.

She started to reply but another text came through then.

_Unknown Number:_ _I was honorably discharged after I finished my second 6 year term. They don’t like you to get “too old” for the job. After that, I came back here to the States and I started working for an auto body shop. As much as I hate to admit it, military work doesn’t apply too easily to other jobs out there. But I’ve always been good with my hands, so it was what I knew best._

_There’s nothing wrong with a man that’s good with his hands,_ she assured him.

_Well look who’s talking dirty now… ;)_ he hinted.

_Oh, honey, you couldn’t handle me talking dirty,_ she quickly replied before she started running the water for her bath.

_You’d be surprised, sweetheart. ;)_ he bantered playfully.

_I’m not that easy, Casanova._ _My momma didn’t raise a slut,_ she retorted.

_Unknown Number: Never said she did. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just joking. I’m sorry if I implied that you were. I didn’t mean to._

Kensi set her phone down on the lavender colored fuzzy toilet lid cover beside the tub, stripping out of her work clothes before she walked across the hall to grab a pair of boy cut panties and her favorite razorback tank top. Then she returned to the bathroom, her dark eyes drifting shut as the scent of warm vanilla and brown sugar filled the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, then went to go climb into the tub, lifting one leg to let the hot water run down over her foot as she put her toes against the running faucet.

Her phone went off again and she brought one arm out from under the gathering suds, reaching for the warm, fluffy, lavender colored bath towel she’d set out beside the tub. She dried her hands and then picked up her phone. She had two messages, one from Jughead and the other from Mr. Wrong Number. She read the one from Jug first.

_Jug: Hey, Kens, just thought I’d check in. Klaus snuck off, so he’s probably hanging out in the hall with his flavor for the night. And Halle is flirting with the bartender, so Priestly’s busy pouting. And I’ve apparently been deemed the designated driver for the night. So, I just thought I’d check on you while I had a chance, before things pick up again._

She smiled to herself. He was so damn sweet – and sexy too, if she was honest – but she doubted that he could ever handle the life of being SAMCRO’S princess’s boyfriend. Life was dangerous enough for her most days. She wasn’t _about_ to drag him into that. And, so far, he still had yet to show her that he was interested in her as more than just friends – other than when either of them came into heat or rut at least, and that was only to help each other through the stressful and frustrating process their bodies underwent during that time.

_Kensi: I’m fine, Jug. I promise. I just finished my second movie and now I’m soaking in the tub. Thanks for checking in though. I hope they’re not giving you TOO much trouble?_

_Not any worse than the usual,_ came his reply, making her smile.

_Kensi: Well, let me know if you need some backup. As much as I hate to come out of hibernation, you know that I’d do it if you needed the help._

_Jug: I know. Thanks, Kens. Enjoy your bath._

_Always,_ she texted back before pulling up the message she’d received from Mr. Wrong Number.

_Unknown Number: Hey, I honestly didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry if I did._

Kensi sighed, wanting nothing more than to just relax back against the back of the tub and enjoy her bath. But this guy had been fun to talk to and he had kept her entertained for a few hours already tonight. She supposed she could cut him some slack.

_Kensi: Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not a slut. I’ve known PLENTY over the years, and I won’t lower my standards to sleeping with any guy that bats his lashes at me or offers to take me home. I’m not easy and I don’t take kindly to men treating me like a piece of meat or an easy lay. So, if you want my respect, I’d suggest you treat ME with respect._

_Understood,_ was his immediate answer.

Nothing more, nothing less.

_Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a nice, hot bath waiting for me and I don’t want the water to get cold,_ she told him.

_All right,_ came his response, just seconds before he texted again.

_Unknown Number:_ _I’m not gonna lie. I really enjoyed our little chat tonight. I just hope I didn’t blow it a few minutes ago. Enjoy your bath, ninja granny. I hope you have a good night._

Kensi couldn’t help but smile at that.

She texted back a simple message before setting her phone back down on the fuzzy toilet cover, _Apology accepted. Good night, Mr. Fix It._

Then she leaned back against the back of the tub and closed her eyes as she reveled in the hot water soothing the aching muscles in her back.

Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I’d love to hear your thoughts so, as always, please feel free to comment below.


	2. Tacoma

Well, now that the introductions are over with, we’re on the second day that Kozik and Kensi have been talking now and now they’re starting to learn more about each other.

** Chapter 2: Tacoma **

The next morning, Kensi was surprised to receive a text message while she was fixing herself breakfast. She heard her phone vibrate against the countertop while she was stirring the corned beef hash and sweet corn she had frying in the skillet. Her dark brows knitted together but she reached over to swipe her phone off the countertop, pressing in her passcode and pulling up her text messages to see a new message from Wrong Number, as she had decided to call him, sitting in her inbox.

She pulled the message open, a smile stretching across her face as she read the words, _I just wanted to apologize again for last night. I really didn’t mean to offend you. Honest. I was hoping that maybe I could wish you a good morning?_

 _Well good morning to you too,_ she replied.

 _So, I never did ask last night. Where are you from?_ came his immediate response, letting her know that he had been waiting for her to reply.

 _California,_ she told him before deciding to send him another text.

 _Kensi:_ _That’s as good as you’re getting. We don’t exactly know each other yet. You could be a serial killer for all I know._

_Wrong Number: Fair enough. I’ll give you that. But I can promise you that I’m not a serial killer. I mean, being a Marine, full disclosure that I’ve done a few things in the line of duty, but I’ve never killed an innocent person. I never really enjoyed that part of the job. I did it for my country, for my brothers. But it doesn’t mean I liked it._

Kensi’s dark eyes grew wide at that and she typed a quick message back, _I can’t imagine what that must have been like. It takes a TREMENDOUS amount of courage and discipline to be a military man or woman, and I don’t imagine it’s easy by any standard. But to admit something like that… Well, that takes guts._

 _Just being honest,_ he replied, just before another text message came through.

 _Wrong Number:_ _Besides, someone once told me that you have to give respect to get it. So, I’m trying to go out on a limb here and prove to her that I do, in fact, have an honorable bone in my body._

 _Well, she appreciates that,_ Kensi reassured him before asking a question that he had led her to.

 _Kensi:_ _So, where are you from, Marine?_

 _Tacoma,_ came his reply.

_Kensi: Washington, huh? I hear it’s beautiful._

_Wrong Number: It is. I’m sure you’d love it, especially during the fall, when all the leaves are changing._

_Fall has always been my favorite season,_ she admitted, before going on to elaborate.

 _Kensi:_ _I love the colors of the leaves before they fall. I love apple cider or apple cider donuts and pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. I love scary movies and hot chocolate and hoodie weather. It’s just cool enough that you have to wear a sweater or a sweatshirt but not cold enough for a winter coat. I love it._

_Wrong Number: I’d have to agree with you there. But, depending on where you’re from in California, I’m sure we get a LOT colder weather here than you guys do there._

_Kensi: You would be correct._

_Wrong Number: As for the sweets, I can’t say that I’ve ever tried apple cider donuts or pumpkin chocolate chip cookies._

_Kensi: Oh! You would LOVE them, especially the way I make them. I frost my cookies with cream cheese frosting. They’re to die for._

_Wrong Number: Well, they sound delicious. Maybe I can talk you into making some for me sometime?_

_Maybe,_ she replied with a smile.

She loved teasing him. And he apparently could give as good as he got – at least as far as playful witty banter went.

 _So, what are you doing this morning?_ he asked her.

 _I’m currently fixing breakfast,_ she replied before stirring the hash once more.

_Wrong Number: Oh? What are we having?_

_Kensi: Corned beef hash and toast._

_Wrong Number: Sounds delicious._

_Kensi: No way! You like hash?! NOBODY I know likes hash but my mom and me. Well, that’s a lie. One of my friends, Halle, likes it too._

_Wrong Number: I love it. My mom used to fix it when I was growing up and it just kind of grew on me. My brother always said that it looked like dog food._

_Kensi: My dad always teases us “Irish girls”. We like Bailey’s in our coffee. We love corned beef hash. And we prefer baked ham over turkey for the holidays, so we always fix one of each._

_Wrong Number: Wow, you guys must have a pretty big family then._

_Kensi: Well, there’s just the four of us, my mother, my father, my half-brother, and me. But my father has a lot of really close friends. Kind of like your “brothers” from the military. He calls them his brothers, and they all wind up at my mom’s house over the holidays. We have Sunday dinner at my mom’s every week. It’s kind of a big deal._

_Wrong Number: There’s nothing wrong with that. All that’s left my family is me and my brother. So, I’d consider you to be lucky to be honest. But all of the guys that I work with are a pretty tight-knit group, so I can’t complain._

_Kensi: Yeah. I guess so. I’m not gonna lie. I’m kind of dreading going to the dinner tomorrow. I didn’t really want to leave the apartment this weekend. But if I don’t go, she’ll probably hunt me down and kill me._

_Wrong Number: Well, then you’d better go. We don’t want you to suffer the consequences, now do we? I might just miss you._

Kensi smiled at that, shaking her head at him, and replied, _Aww… I’m flattered. :)_

 _Well, you should be,_ he told her.

Kensi stirred the hash one last time and turned off the burner on the stove, reaching for a plate from one of the cabinets to dish some of the food up. She went to the bread box next to grab a couple slices of toast and pop them into the toaster.

 _Sorry,_ she apologized before sending another text through to explain.

 _Kensi:_ _Just waiting for my toast to pop. I like my hash in a sandwich._

 _Eat some for me?_ he asked.

Kensi laughed at that, nodding before she realized that he couldn’t see her.

 _I will,_ she told him.

 _Well, I’ve got a couple chores to do this morning, but I’ll text you later, if that’s okay?_ he inquired.

 _I’d like that_ , she answered.

Then she quickly texted, _Besides, it’s not like I have anything to do this weekend._

 _All right then. It’s a date,_ he joked.

 _Oh, not hardly._ _That would imply me having to dress up. And these jammies are too damn comfortable,_ she teased.

_Wrong Number: Fair enough, Miss Coffee Shop._

_Kensi: Catch you later, Tacoma._

Herman Kozik snagged his phone off the counter there in the laundry room after he had finished loading his dirty clothes into the washer. He’d had a stack of dishes in the sink to take care of and he needed to get his clothes washed for the next week. He started the coffee maker and then pulled up his text thread with the mystery girl from California. He couldn’t help but smile as he read the last message she’d sent him.

_California: Catch you later, Tacoma._

He smirked to himself. She was cute. Sassy, but cute. Just how he liked his women.

 _I’m back, baby girl._ _Just had to do some dishes and throw my clothes into the washer. I’m in the process of fixing my cup of caffeine now,_ he told her.

Her response came just seconds later, almost as if she’d been waiting for it.

His eyes skimmed over the words, _Careful with the pet names now._

 _Why? You not like them?_ he teased playfully.

 _Quite on the contrary,_ she texted back, just seconds before another text came through.

 _California:_ _I quite like them. But I’ll hunt you down if you ever tell anyone that._

 _You got it,_ he told her, unable to resist chuckling at that.

Another text came through and he read it.

_California: Just nothing cheesy like “boo” or “sugar” or “honeybunch”. And nothing offensive like “sugar tits” or “sweet cheeks”. And don’t EVER call me Toots. I HATE that._

_Wouldn’t dream of it,_ he assured her.

He thought for a moment before asking, _So, what are you doing today?_

 _Well, if I’m LUCKY, not playing nurse for my friends that went out clubbing last night. They’re known to party hardy,_ was her response.

Kozik couldn’t help but chuckle at that before typing back, _And you? Do you party hardy too?_

 _I’m better than the best, honey ;)_ she replied.

He smiled at that. Yeah. This chick _had_ to be hell on two legs. There was no doubt about it.

His fingers flew over the keys as he texted her back, _Then you’d LOVE the parties I get invited to._

It was true. The Sons there at Tacoma _really_ knew how to throw a party. In fact, he hadn’t been to a better one yet. But, to be fair, he hadn’t exactly left Tacoma for the past three years since he’d been back to the States either.

 _Oh, I doubt they compare to the ones I’ve been to,_ came her response.

Kozik’s brows rose at that. Where the hell was _she_ partying?

 _Don’t get me wrong, we don’t do drugs or anything like that,_ she told him, before another text came through.

 _California:_ _Well, I mean, I have never personally done anything like that. Halle used to back when we were in high school, but just weed on the rare occasion. She hasn’t touched the stuff in years. Jug does pot on occasion, but nothing serious and never more than one or two blunts at a time. Priestly has never touched the stuff. Now Klaus? Klaus likes weed, and he likes his coke. Scratch that. Klaus has done pretty much anything he can get his hands on. But he’s got me and Jug on speed dial in case he ever finds himself up shit creek. We don’t do that shit with him, but he knows he can call us if shit happens when he’s on it._

Kozik sighed. He got the feeling that she admitted that stuff because she thought he was judging her, assuming that she was just some young kid that had fucked around with drugs – or still possibly did. And, while he hated to admit it – and while he knew _damn_ good and well that it could very well change the way she looked at him – Kozik decided to tell her the truth about his past.

 _Trust me when I say that you don’t want to get started on that shit,_ he told her.

There was a brief pause and he wondered if maybe he hadn’t turned her off to him by telling her the truth. But, after a few moments, she texted him back.

 _It sounds like this is something that you know from experience?_ she asked.

 _You could say that,_ he replied.

Then he decided to elaborate, _I was a bit of a junkie before I got clean and went into the Marines. I’ve been sober for 16 years now._

She didn’t reply for a while and he wondered if maybe she wasn’t going to reply at all.

But another text came through and he opened it to read the words, _I’m sorry to hear it. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. It took a LOT of dedication and determination to get clean, and it sounds like you’ve worked real hard to stay clean. So that’s something to really be proud of. Can I ask what made you quit? If it’s too personal, you don’t have to answer._

Kozik let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding before he took a deep breath and texted her back, _I had a pretty close call when I was 19, woke up in the hospital. I couldn’t even look my mom in the eye after that. My buddy, Willy, was the only one that showed up at the hospital to visit with me while I was detoxing. After that, I decided it was time to turn my life around. I’ve been sober ever since. I joined the military a year later, served 12 years, got honorably discharged, and came back to the States, where I became a mechanic._

 _I can honestly say that you sound like the toughest son of a bitch I’ve ever known. I hear it’s not easy to quit something like that – and TRUST me, I’ve seen Klaus fucked up MORE than enough times. But to know that you went on to serve your country with honor for 12 years and then found a steady, 9-5 job after that? That’s really something, Tacoma. You should be proud,_ the mystery woman replied.

Tears stung the back of his eyes as his pale eyes began to water. He sucked in a sharp breath and nodded to himself. She was right. It _was_ something to be proud of. Any of those things alone would have been something to be proud of. But when she laid it all out there for him, it was easier to see just how far he had come in the past 16 years. He wasn’t just some ex-junkie. He wasn’t just some family fuck-up. He had really made something of himself, for himself. And that knowledge sucked the breath right from his lungs.

 _Thank you,_ was all he could manage to say as his vision began to blur.

He reached up to wipe first one eye, then the other, before he set his phone down on the counter and went to grab a Yeti cup and pour some coffee into it. He added some sugar and stirred it up before taking a long pull from it.

 _Well, you’ve certainly earned it,_ she told him.

 _Well, you know all about me, but I still feel like I hardly know anything about you,_ he hinted.

 _What do you want to know?_ she asked.

 _Well, what do you like to do in your spare time?_ he inquired.

_California: Well, I like to bake, obviously. I love to watch scary movies or action movies – anything but chick flicks really. I hate that sappy shit. I like to write stories in what little spare time I get. I love to hang out with my friends on the weekends._

_Kozik: Sounds like most girls I know, with the exception of hating chick flicks._

_California: Ugh! Don’t even get me started. Those damn romance novels and chick flicks are only setting young girls and women up for failure. I mean, they teach these girls that men are supposed to be perfect, that they’re always going to say the right thing or do the right thing at exactly the right time. That shit just doesn’t happen. It’s not all rainbows and butterflies and fairy tale endings. Guys are humans, just like us women. They’re not perfect. We’re only human. We’re flawed. We’re BOUND to make mistakes. And to tell women that they don’t is just a bold-faced lie._

He chuckled at that, typing back, _Well, tell me how you really feel._

_California: Like I said, I hate chick flicks. I don’t do the sappy shit. It’s not realistic at all. And it’s not fair for EITHER gender to expect perfection from the other._

_Kozik: I agree. Well, what else do you like?_

_California: Well, I love chocolate, especially Hershey’s milk chocolate with almonds or Mr. Goodbars. I love Bailey’s in my coffee. I love nice, long, hot bubble baths and sitting down and snuggling up with a warm blanket and a good book. I love peppermint hot chocolate on a cold day. I rock the fuzzy socks and pajama pants or sweatpants around the apartment on the weekends or the evenings. I could probably spend a whole paycheck in Bath and Body Works or Borders, the book store._

_Kozik: So, what you’re telling me is that your weaknesses are chocolate, smellies, and a good book._

_California: Precisely._

_Kozik: What kind of books do you like to read?_

_California: Well, I like to read about the same kinds of things I like to write._

_Kozik: And what kinds of things do you write about?_

_California: Now why would I tell you that?_

He chuckled, shaking his head as he realized that she was dodging the question.

 _Because I asked you nicely?_ he suggested.

 _Well, I suppose I could tell you,_ she replied.

But he got nothing further, so he asked, _WILL you tell me?_

 _Maybe,_ was her response.

He couldn’t help but smile at that.

 _Please?_ he asked.

_California: Fine. I suppose I’ll tell you, but only because you asked so nicely. And because you’ve told me some pretty personal stuff about yourself that I doubt you’ve told anyone else. So, if you MUST know, I like to write erotic fiction._

Kozik’s blue eyes grew wide and his jaw fell open. No _fucking_ way!

 _Erotic? As in… sexy stuff?_ he questioned.

 _Yes, sexy stuff,_ she replied.

 _Wow…_ was all he could manage.

_California: I know, I know. Girls aren’t supposed to be into that kind of stuff. But, news flash, women have been writing erotic novels for YEARS now, DECADES even. Besides, it’s not like men don’t read shit like that. Why else would they have sold thousands of copies of Penthouse letters?_

_Kozik: Okay… I wasn’t saying that it’s wrong for women to read stuff like that – or write it. I was just… surprised is all. I mean it’s not every day you hear a woman admit to reading sexy novels or watching porn or anything like that._

_California: Which is PRECISELY why I don’t tell anyone what I write about. I haven’t even told my friends yet, with the exception of Halle and that’s only because she’s my brainstorming buddy, my soundboard if you will._

_Kozik: So, you write… sexy stories. And you like to read that stuff too?_

_California: I do. I have a very particular taste in what I read and write though. I like supernatural stuff, like werewolves and lycans and gargoyles in particular. But I like to read stories about ALL kinds of supernatural creatures or science-fiction stuff to be honest. I like stuff where the woman falls for the villain or the anti-hero. I like to read about bikers or rock stars or tattoo artists. I don’t know. I don’t like to read about guys that are clean cut Casanovas. I like my guys a little rough around the edges. And, for the record, I do NOT watch porn. That shit’s so fake and over the top it’s not even funny._

Kozik’s brows rose at that. This chick knew what she liked. And apparently that was bad boys with tattoos and motorcycles. She might not have known it, but she’d just described him to a T.

 _So that does it for you, huh? Bad boys on motorcycles and rock stars with tattoos?_ he asked.

 _California: Well, I’m very picky about the stories I read or write._ _Most of those stories don’t have any truth to them. A lot of the authors are ladies who have never spent a day around a motorcycle club or a rock star or a tattoo artist and it shows._

 _And you have?_ he texted back, genuinely curious now.

Kensi realized her mistake, quickly typing back, _I’ve known a few tattoo artists over the years. As a matter of fact, I have some ink myself. But as for the rock stars, no. I can’t say that I know one. I know a couple bands that play local gigs, but nothing serious. And I’ve heard of motorcycle clubs. There’s one pretty close to where I live._

She wouldn’t tell him that it was just a few blocks away from where she lived. She wouldn’t tell him that her half-brother and her father were the Vice President and President of the club. Fuck, she couldn’t just go telling him who she was or who she was affiliated with! He’d run screaming for the hills and probably call the cops to report her.

 _I happen to drive a Harley,_ was his response.

She couldn’t help but smile at that. While she’d always thought a man on a motorcycle was hot – and the sound of one revving on the lot was even hotter – she had _sworn_ that she would never date a member of a motorcycle club. She wasn’t stupid or naïve anymore. She knew what that life entailed, both for the man under the patch and his woman. She’d seen the chaos that had ripped through her half-brother’s life, resulting in his young son being kidnapped, which had led to the entire fucking club banding together to go after the cartel that had taken him. She’d witnessed the target that her mother had become to rival MCs who were willing to use her as leverage against her father or her half-brother. Hell, Kensi herself had been kidnapped twice, once during which she managed to escape before they even got her out of town and the other time having resulted in the whole club having to come rescue her. And she didn’t want that life for herself. She didn’t want to constantly be watching over her shoulder, worrying that someone would try to hurt her or kill her or kidnap her to get to the man she loved – or worse, that someone would try to use _him_ to get to _her_. While she knew that she would _always_ have a target on her back, due to the fact that she was Gemma Teller-Malone and Marcus Malone’s daughter and Jax Teller’s half-sister, due to the fact that she was irrevocably tied to SAMCRO, she didn’t want to dig her grave any deeper by getting involved with another member of a club.

The club was her family. But she’d be _damned_ if she took one as her lover.

 _And I’ve promised myself that I would never date a man on a motorcycle,_ she replied to him.

 _That seems a little harsh, doesn’t it?_ he inquired.

 _Dating a man from an MC just seems like it would make things a LOT more complicated,_ she said, not wanting to give too much away.

He didn’t reply for a moment and she started to wonder if maybe she hadn’t offended him, if maybe he wasn’t a member of an MC himself.

 _I suppose you’re right,_ he finally replied.

Then a second text came through, which read, _So, tell me about these stories you write._

Kensi cringed but asked, _What do you wanna know?_

_Tacoma: Well, you said that you’re very picky about what you write, as well as what you read. You said that you like to write… sexy stories. But you didn’t mention what KINDS of sexy stories you like to write._

_Kensi: Well, my female characters are NEVER weaklings, not your typical damsel in distress kind of women. They’re strong, independent, capable and resourceful. They’re not pushovers._

_Tacoma: That’s the ONLY kind of woman I like to have._

Kensi couldn’t help but smile at that, typing back, _I suppose I can relate to female characters like that a lot more. I presented as an omega, but I never had an omega personality. I suppose I get that from my mother. You’d think she was an alpha if you ever met her, but she’s actually an omega. Now my father on the other hand, he’s DEFINITELY a very dominant alpha. There’s no mistaking it. But he has to be, in order to keep the guys that work for him in line. That’s the only kind of male I could ever stand to be with. I like a strong, capable alpha, but not one that thinks that he’s better than me or that he can belittle me. And I can’t stand an indecisive male. I find other omegas and even betas to be frustrating and whiny, irritating if you will. I guess it’s why I’m 25 and I’ve still never formed a bond with a male yet._

Kozik’s chest puffed out at that, his nostrils flaring, and he was quick to admit, _I’m an alpha._

_California: Yeah, well, everyone I know tells me I should’ve presented as an alpha because I have the personality of one and I never back down. I’m NOTHING like your typical omega. I’m not meek or quiet or reserved. I’m not introverted or submissive. I don’t back down from a challenge and I don’t tolerate being told what to do or how to do it. I won’t allow ANY male to tell me what I can and can’t do. I get told all the time that I’m “not a good little omega”. I’m a woman, not property, and I won’t be treated as such. If he can’t treat me like an equal, he doesn’t deserve me._

Kozik couldn’t help the way his dick swelled when she revealed that little tidbit of information about herself.

 _You sound fucking perfect,_ he told her.

And it was true. She did. Kozik had never been the kind of alpha male that was into the more submissive females. He didn’t like the ones that asked “How high?” when they were told to jump. He wasn’t the kind that had chased after females that were meek and quiet or shy and timid. He wanted his woman with a little fire in her eyes, with a wild side and a stubborn streak. He didn’t believe that omegas were to be coddled or cooed at. He didn’t believe that they were lowly or beneath him like most alphas did. He felt that they should be cherished, that they should be protected, that they should know how significant their role in the alpha’s life was. He had often been chastised by other alpha males for it, but he knew what he liked. And this little female was _exactly_ his type.

 _Oh, I’m FAR from it, Tacoma. I can promise you that,_ came her response.

 _Well, you sound heavenly to me,_ he countered.

 _Think a little further south,_ she teased playfully.

Kozik growled at that, his eyes drifting shut and his nostrils flaring as the image of long, tanned legs filled his mind. He pictured those soft, silky thighs parting for him to reveal the most intimate part of her and his mouth practically watered at the thought of her revealing herself to him.

 _Don’t tease me, baby girl. If you wanted me to think of your pussy, all you had to do was say so,_ he told her, knowing that it was bold – maybe _too_ bold.

Hell, he’d only known her for less than 24 hours and here he was talking like that? Most girls would’ve run screaming for the hills or chewed his ass royally, and rightfully so!

 _Who’s teasing now? ;)_ she bantered playfully.

 _Honey, that’s a dangerous game you’re playing. You don’t even know me,_ he pointed out.

 _And you don’t know me,_ she retorted.

 _Maybe we should steer towards a safer topic,_ he suggested.

Then he thought on it for a second before sending her another message, _I like our little conversations and I’d hate to see them end because I let my testosterone get the best of me._

It was the truth. He didn’t want her to think that he was just like all the rest of the guys out there, that all he wanted from her were nude pictures and fake moans. Because that wasn’t it at _all._ If he was honest, he probably liked this girl a little more than he should, considering how they had just started texting each other last night. But she was funny and charming and sassy and clever and he loved every second of it.

_California: If that’s what you want._

_Kozik: FAR from it, but it’s for the best._

Kensi bit her bottom lip as she read the words on the screen over again. She had to admit, while she didn’t know this man, she quite liked him already. He was so much fun to tease, so entertaining to talk to. Hell, she’d already told him a few things that only her closest friends knew about her. But, more than anything, their conversations felt so effortless, like she was talking to a friend that she’d known for years. She couldn’t describe it, couldn’t explain it even if she tried. This man was different. He wasn’t like all the rest. And she wanted to keep him around for a while, at least until she got to know him better and could decide for herself whether or not it was worth pursuing something with him.

At this point, they had been texting for the better part of the day, sharing little details about themselves and texting between household chores. And, while she knew that she shouldn’t, while she knew that it was probably against her better judgement, she had the sudden and undeniable urge to test this man, to see if he really was interested in her or if he was just out to see what he could get. Most men she knew would only push her or pressure her for more if she started to tease them. They would ask for pictures or try to pressure her into meeting with them if she texted them dirty little messages. And, if they didn’t get what they wanted from her, they would never speak to her again. And, as much as she hated to admit how much it disappointed her, she knew to expect it at this point. It was just the way men in today’s society worked. So, she had two options now. She could either bite the bullet and test him, see if he would take the bait and then demand more from her. If he did, he was history as far as she was concerned. Or she could veer things back onto a more appropriate subject.

And yet, while she knew that it was unfair of her to expect _anything_ of him, she couldn’t help but realize that she wanted it both ways. She wanted him to be okay with texting her dirty things or even sending her dirty pictures – and she would _love_ to hear his voice on the other end of the phone and see if it sounded as sexy as she imagined it to be – but she also wanted him to be interested in her for _her,_ for who she was. It was a catch twenty-two. She knew that most guys weren’t content to just sit around, talking to a girl. They wanted more. And yet, when they _got_ more, they were quick to get bored and move on.

A little smirk curled at her lips as an idea struck her. She’d try it and, if he didn’t take the bait, if he decided that he wanted to keep things on a more honorable note, then she would respect that. But, more importantly, she would respect _him._

 _You’re right. You couldn’t handle my mad skills,_ she taunted.

His response surprised her when he texted back, _Oh, I SERIOUSLY doubt that, sweetheart. I think you’ve SERIOUSLY underestimated me. I didn’t say that we need to change the subject because I can’t handle some serious flirting. I said it because, despite the fact that we’ve known each other for less than 24 hours now, I respect you and I don’t want you to think that I don’t. Like I said, I enjoy our little conversations and I don’t want them to end because I took things too far and you think I have no interest in you as a person. Believe me, I can flirt with the best of them. I’ve never had a woman complain about my skills yet. But I don’t want you to think that that’s all I want you for. Hell, I don’t even know what you look like. I barely know you, but I DO know that I like that brilliant but quirky mind of yours. I know that you aren’t like any other woman I’ve ever known. I know that you’re different. And I like that. I want to get to know more about you. And I don’t want to flirt with you if you’re just going to forget about me tomorrow. I’m not like other guys, California. I’m not a “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” kinda guy. I never have been, even though my buddies give me shit about it all the time. Hell, I’ve never screwed around with a girl I wasn’t dating, not even in high school. I take my time with a woman and I show her the respect she deserves. But I expect that respect in return. I won’t touch a woman, I won’t flirt with her, unless I know that I’m willing to make a commitment to her. You said once that your momma didn’t raise a slut, and I believe that. But I think that we BOTH know that guys these days expect WAY too much WAY too soon from women. And I’m not like that._

Kensi’s jaw dropped as she read the words over again. She didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t expected a man to ever be so honest or open with her. But, more than that, she had _never_ known a guy – with the exception of Juggie, Priestly, and Klaus – that had actually turned down flirting with a girl because he respected her and cared about what she thought of him. Here he was, trying to defend her _and_ let her down gently for her _own_ best interest. What kind of man did that?!

Then it hit her. The honorable kind did.

 _I couldn’t respect you more for that, Tacoma._ _I admire a man that’s more than just his testosterone levels,_ she told him.

 _And I like a woman that’s more than just a quick fumble under the sheets or a few dirty text messages,_ was his response.

 _Fair enough,_ _but I’m giving you fair warning now: I’ll be going into heat in three weeks, and I am inviting one of my guy friends over here to tend to my needs. He’s the only person I trust with that sort of thing,_ she replied.

 _So, what? Are you asking my permission?_ he asked.

 _I didn’t say that. Like you said, you barely even know me. I don’t need your permission. I’m an unattached omega and I can do as I please. But I would ask that you be patient with me, seeing as it’s a very stressful and frustrating time in a female’s life. I might not be very responsive to text messages during that time. And I would ask that you not get pissed off over me asking another male to help me through my heat cycle,_ she answered.

 _I can understand that. It’s no different than when I go into rut, I’m sure,_ he told her.

 _I can only imagine._ _Obviously, I lack the proper anatomy, so I can’t say I’ve ever been through a rut,_ she bantered playfully.

 _Well, I should hope not!_ he replied.

 _Well, Tacoma, I hate to leave you hanging, but I’m afraid that I’m in need of a nice, long soak in the tub and I have a rather interesting book I’ve found about a gargoyle and his lover that I can’t wait to dive into. Catch you tomorrow?_ she asked him.

 _You’ll catch me tomorrow,_ he assured her.

And so, it was decided.

Kozik smiled to himself. He had to admit it, he really liked this girl, whoever she was. He just hoped that she wouldn’t freak out if things went far enough between them and they eventually got to the part where he revealed to her just who he worked with, what he did for a living, along with being a mechanic on the side. Because, while he was adamant about showing her that he had honorable intentions for her – and he genuinely _did –_ some of the shit that he did for the club was less than honorable. He just hoped that she could accept that.

His cell started to ring, and he checked it to see Happy’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey, Hap. What’s up?” he answered.

“Hey, man, they’re having a party down here at the clubhouse. Aren’t you coming, brother?” Happy asked him.

Kozik sighed. Parties with the Sons were a catch twenty-two. A guy could really have one _hell_ of a good time. But the temptation was always there. The booze was unending, the crow eaters were eager, and the night never seemed to end. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was, with booze and women, the temptation of doing drugs was always there, that niggling little voice in the back of his mind. Despite the fact that he’d managed to stay clean this long, that didn’t mean that the temptation never crept up on him. And it was _much_ harder to fight that temptation when his senses were inebriated and his defenses were down, when his conscience was weak.

“You know I won’t let you do that shit, man,” Happy told him, as if he sensed the struggle Kozik was having with himself, “I’ve got your back, brother.”

Kozik smiled at that. If there was one person in his life that Kozik could count on, it was Willy Lowman. He was the only person that had gone to visit him while he was in the hospital after he had overdosed when he was 19 and wound up in the E.R. Happy was the only person that had wanted anything to do with him after that – at least before he went into the service. Happy had been his accountability partner, the one that had always treated him with tough love to make sure that he was staying clean, that he was walking the straight and narrow. And Happy had been the one that had stuck his neck out for him and helped introduce him to the Sons there in Tacoma when he’d come back to the States after he had finished his second 6-year term in the Marines. Hell, Happy had been more of a brother to him than his own flesh and blood had ever been. And Kozik couldn’t have been more grateful for ever having met him in the first place. He didn’t know what he’d do without that man.

“All right,” Kozik replied, “Just let me get a shower and shave and I’ll pull on some clean clothes.”

“I’ll see you there, brother,” Happy said.

15 minutes into the party and Kozik was already regretting his decision to go in the first place. He was reminded, yet again, why parties weren’t really his scene. For one thing, the crow eaters were too damn desperate, their hands pawing at his belt and his crotch and any part of him that they could reach. They preyed on the weak, the vulnerable, and he knew it made him an easy target in their eyes. But he wasn’t as easy as they had anticipated. He turned them down, one after another, when they approached him. He wasn’t into one-night stands, never had been, not even during his ruts. And with every dull, droning conversation they tried to strike up with him, in an effort to wear his defenses down, he saw right through the front. They had no desire to get to know him, no real interest in him as a person. All they wanted was to say that they had fucked a member of the club. They were fake tits and dye jobs, all roaming hands and whiny voices. It grated on his nerves if he was honest.

And it was then that he realized it. He didn’t want some damn crow eater. He wanted someone like California, someone that was sweet but had a sassy side. Someone that had standards, that respected herself too much to go pawing desperately at some man in a bar, whining into his ear about how she wanted him to take her home. She was the kind that would make a man wait, the kind that would tease him just enough to leave him wanting a second date with her, maybe leave him with a goodnight kiss to leave her taste lingering on his tongue, and then walk to her door with a sly little grin on her lips before she waved and called goodnight to him from just inside the door.

He sighed, knowing that the party was already over for him, and tipped his second bottle of beer back. He never drank more than two for fear that he’d take it too far, that he’d do something that he’d regret later, if he had too much to drink.

Happy sidled up to him and leaned against the bar, turning sideways to face him as he asked, “You okay, brother?”

“Yeah,” Kozik lied, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Happy tilted one dark eyebrow at him and Kozik sighed, admitting, “All right. I’m over it already.”

Happy’s brows rose at that and he inquired, “What’s eating at you, Koz?”

“I just…” Kozik started, his eyes locked on his bottle of beer as he started to peel at the label and tried to sort through his thoughts and put them all in order, “I met this girl last night.”

Happy’s brows rose at that and he asked, “Yeah? And?”

“Well, I didn’t really _meet_ her,” Kozik explained, “Actually, it’s kind of a funny story. I tried to text you to tell you that your taste in movies is apparently shit, but I wound up texting the wrong number and this chick told me that I had the wrong number. But, rather than be a bitch about it, she was actually pretty cool. We spent most of last night texting back and forth. And I texted her again this morning and this afternoon –,”

“Where is this going, brother?” Happy interrupted him, cocking one brow at him before he tipped his own beer back to take a pull from it, those dark eyes locked on Kozik.

Kozik sighed, finally biting the bullet as he admitted, “And I kinda like her, man.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Happy inquired, “Why would that be a problem?”

“It’s not a problem, man,” Kozik replied, “The problem is, she seems like a good girl, you know? Like she actually respects herself and she demands respect from those that interact with her, and I just… I see these crow eaters and suddenly, they seem much less appealing, you know?”

Happy looked grim for a second, those dark eyes boring into him, before he gave a slow nod, stating, “I see.”

Kozik was silent for a moment and Happy asked, “Well, does this girl have a name?”

Kozik laughed, nodding, and answered, “Yeah, but she wouldn’t tell me.”

“Did you tell her yours?” Happy questioned.

“Nah,” Kozik said, “It’s probably better that way.”

Happy nodded in agreement. It was better for them both that way. He didn’t run the risk of her finding out who he was or who he was affiliated with that way.

“So, this mystery girl?” Happy asked him, “What’s she like?”

Kozik couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips as he looked up at his closest friend, explaining, “She’s the coolest chick I think I’ve ever talked to, man. She’s smart. She’s funny. She’s got good taste in movies and she’s got some ink. She’s brutally honest, but she’s not a bitch. She just seems like she’s really down to earth, you know?”

Happy nodded slowly, taking it all in, before he advised, “Well, if you like her, then you should go for it.”

Kozik just laughed, shaking his head, and replied, “I can’t do that, man. Hell, I barely even know her. We’ve only known each other for like 24 hours, Hap.”

Happy just shrugged, stating, “Last time I checked, Koz, life was too damn short to piss it away, pining after some chick. You either want her or you don’t.”

“It’s not that easy, man,” Kozik said, shaking his head, “You know what it’s like. Sure, crow eaters are quick to jump on a Son’s dick, but you can’t make a ho a housewife. And most women can’t handle the life of being a Son’s old lady. How am I supposed to know if she’ll stick around once she finds out who I am? That she won’t get scared when she finds out what I do?”

Happy shrugged his shoulders, replying, “That’s not for you to decide, brother. That’s her call. If she can’t handle the life, it would never work anyway. You can’t force shit like that, man. Give her some time, get to know her a little better. And if she’s really as cool as you say she is, then you’re gonna have to tell her who you are and what you do eventually anyway. You can’t hide it forever.”

Kozik nodded. He knew it was true. But he wasn’t ready to tell her who he was yet.

“Go on,” Happy told him, giving a jerk of his head towards the double doors of the clubhouse, “Get outta here. Go talk to your girl.”

Kozik nodded, reaching out to clap his closest friend on the shoulder and give it a squeeze. Then he slid off his barstool and headed for the door.

He reached into his back pocket for his phone as he walked across the lot towards his bike, his fingers flying over the keys as he typed California a quick message, _Hey, baby girl. I know you said that you were gonna be busy, but I wanted to wish you a good night. How’s the new book?_

He was surprised when she texted him back before he even made it to his bike.

He pulled the message open and read the words that she had typed out, _Yeah, about that… I didn’t even make it 10 minutes into that new book before I got a call from Klaus. Apparently, he had a rather rough night last night, and Priestly and Halle just finished a shift with him, so now it’s my and Jug’s turn. *sigh* I’d really hoped to have a nice, lazy night too, but this is more important. Hal and P had it easy. Klaus is always playful and happy-go-lucky when he’s high. But me and Jug are the clean-up crew apparently. He’s coming down from it now._

 _Wow._ _I’m sorry. I know it’s never easy. But I’m sure he really appreciates you guys being there for him,_ he texted her back.

 _Shit! I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry,_ came her response.

Kozik’s brows knitted together at that. He hoped everything was okay. But he didn’t want to bother her if she was right in the middle of a sticky situation. He doubted she could use another distraction right now.

So, all he wrote back was, _Text me later? At least let me know that you’re okay?_

Kensi sighed, bringing both hands up to fist her fingers in the long, dark locks as she sat, hunched over, on the couch. Jug was in the bathroom with Klaus while his system emptied itself of last night’s partying episode. She _knew_ she should have gone with them last night. She never would have let him touch the damn stuff. It wasn’t that she thought Jug or the others were incapable of babysitting Klaus. It was just that she was firmer with him. She treated him with tough love, whether he liked it or not. She expected nothing but the best of him and refused to accept anything less. She looked out for him, looked out for his best interests. She didn’t just let him do as he pleased, just so that he was happy – and, therefore, easier to deal with. And that was probably one of the reasons why Klaus liked her more, why he _respected_ her more, than the other members of their little motley crew.

But if there was one thing that she couldn’t handle, it was when someone puked.

She shuddered at the sounds that spilled out of the bathroom before grabbing her phone off the couch and calling out to Jug, “Let me know when he’s done! I’ve gotta step out for a sec!”

She made her way across the living room there in Klaus’s one-bedroom apartment, pulling the front door open and stepping out into the chilly, night air. She pulled the door closed behind her and closed her eyes, tipping her head back as the breeze blew lightly against her skin, cooling her flushed face.

She took a deep breath to calm her frayed nerves and slid her phone out of her pocket to pull her messages up.

She couldn’t help but smile to herself when she read the message from Tacoma, _Text me later? At least let me know that you’re okay?_

She texted him back, hoping to reassure him, _Jug’s with him now. If there’s one thing I can’t handle, it’s puke. I can handle blood or snot or spilled beer any day. I can handle drunk people and fist fights and long nights. But puke? No. Someone starts hoarking and they’re on their own._

 _Yeah, that’s one of those things that not too many people can handle. I can’t say I blame you. But I’ve dealt with it enough over the years that it doesn’t bother me anymore. I feel bad for him though. I know what it’s like. That’s the worst part of it. It’s why most people keep taking the stuff, so they never have to come back down. Coming down is the hardest part because your body’s at war with itself. Your mind craves more of that high, but your body knows that it has to purge itself of the stuff for your own damn good. It’s awful. I don’t miss those days at all,_ came his response.

 _Yeah, well, half an hour from now, after he’s done praising the porcelain gods and he’s brushed his teeth, he’ll be curled up next to me on the couch, drooling all over my boobs. He’s quite the cuddler when he’s coming down. He usually won’t let me out of his sight,_ she explained.

 _Lucky bastard,_ he replied, making her laugh and shake her head at him.

 _It’s not like that. Klaus isn’t into girls. He just likes them for “pillows”,_ she replied.

 _Oh. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about him then,_ Tacoma told her, making her smile once more.

 _Yeah, DEFINITELY not. There will NEVER be anything like that between me and Klaus. Even if he wasn’t gay. He’s not exactly my type. And Halle likes Priestly, so I would never try to steal her man – even though he doesn’t exactly KNOW that he’s her man yet,_ she elaborated.

 _And Jug, as you call him?_ Tacoma asked her.

_Kensi: Jug? Well, Jug’s a very complicated guy. He’s been my best friend since we were in grade school. Hell, he lived just down the road while we were growing up. We walked to school together for years. We worked on homework together, had little co-ed sleepovers. We hung out together and partied together. But the only time Jug and I have ever done anything together was when he was in rut or I was in heat, and that was just to help each other get through a very stressful and frustrating process. Then it was back to business as usual. I mean, yeah, I care about him. But not like a boyfriend or anything like that. He’s a boy that just so happens to be my friend. But he’s my wingman, my partner in crime, my confidante. I would never throw that all away just for a temporary mated bond at best. And he feels the same way. We’ve talked about it. There aren’t any romantic feelings between us. He’s the only guy I’ve ever really trusted with the more personal shit in my life._

_Tacoma: And you don’t trust Klaus or Priestly with stuff like that?_

_Kensi: Hell no! I love them, but no._

_Tacoma: I see._

_Kensi: Look, I’m not one of those omegas that can just go to a different alpha every time I go into heat. Jug is the ONLY guy I’ve ever been with during my heat cycles and that’s only because I trust him with everything._

_Tacoma: Sounds to me like he’s a little more than just a friend then._

_Kensi: He’s not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go make sure that Klaus has some water and some pain killers ready for him._

Kozik sighed, running one hand down over his face.

Well, he’d gone and fucked things up again. She’d finally told him something personal about herself and he’d managed to go and insult her somehow. Why were women so damn difficult?

His brain ran in circles, trying to sort this shit out, but when he finally came to a conclusion, he realized that California wasn’t being difficult. She was being brutally honest with him, just as she’d done all along. Hell, _he_ was the one that had gone and gotten jealous, practically insinuating that she wanted to form a bond with her closest friend. It would be no different than her accusing him of wanting to bond with one of the crow eaters. If she wasn’t interested in this friend of hers like that, then she wasn’t interested. Plain and simple.

He shook his head at himself and shuffled into the bathroom. He needed a fucking shower. He smelled like cheap perfume, stale cigarettes, hard whiskey.

He could sort this shit out with California in the morning.

Well, as always, I hope you liked this chapter and I hope to hear your thoughts. So hit that comment button and let me know what you think.


	3. Sunday Dinner

Well, this is the longest chapter yet, but there was a lot going on in this chapter. Kensi meets a new friend, deals with some family drama, and gets to know a little more about Tacoma.

** Chapter 3: Sunday Dinner **

Kensi woke to find Klaus drooling all over her chest, thankful that she’d decided to change her clothes before heading over to his apartment, having pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She rolled her neck, cracking it a couple of times and wincing. Yeah, falling asleep sitting upright was _so_ not conducive to a decent night’s sleep.

She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to be as quiet and careful as she could, before she slowly tried to ease herself out from under her sleeping friend and coworker. She cradled his head gently in both hands and slowly, carefully lowered his head back down onto the cushion of the couch that she had been sitting on just seconds ago.

He gave a little groan in his sleep and she froze, squeezing her eyes shut tight and hoping that he wouldn’t wake up and find out that she had tried to sneak away. But, to her relief, he simply nuzzled at the couch cushion, rubbing his cheek against it and smiling in his sleep, before he began to snore softly once more.

Kensi breathed a sigh of relief and tiptoed out of the living room and down the hall to the bathroom. She checked the time on her phone after she’d washed her hands, finding that it was 9:03. Then she noticed that she had two missed text messages.

She opened the one from Halle first.

 _Halle:_ _Hey, girl. Hope it wasn’t too rough. Call me if you need anything!_

She decided to ignore it for the time being. She would call Halle later. She wasn’t going to interrupt her Sunday morning.

She discovered that the other one was from Tacoma. She debated about whether or not she wanted to open that one, especially after what he had insinuated last night. But she supposed she could understand why he would think that. From an outsider’s perspective, it might look as if she and Jug really did have something more than a mutual, need-based thing going on. But that wasn’t the case.

_Tacoma: Hey, it’s me. Just wanted to apologize for last night. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I was just… Well, I guess I was a bit jealous and that kind of clouded things up a bit. I didn’t mean to come off as an ass, but I’m sure I did. Can you forgive an old asshole for making a fool of himself?_

She couldn’t help but smile at that, typing a quick message back, _I suppose I can. But don’t go making a habit of insulting me or we might have a little problem._

She slipped her phone back into the pocket of her sweatpants and shuffled down the hall towards the kitchen, where she found Jug leaning against the counter, waiting for the coffee pot to fill.

“Morning,” she called to him as she shuffled into the kitchen.

“Morning,” he replied.

“Sorry for flaking out on you last night,” she told him, giving a sheepish smile and casting her dark eyes down to the floor.

Jughead just shrugged, assuring her, “No biggie. I handled it. Besides, we _both_ know that if you would’ve had to take care of him while he was coughing his guts up, we would’ve had more than one mess to deal with.”

Kensi cringed but nodded in agreement.

“Yeah…” she replied, “It wouldn’t have been pretty. Thanks for that though. I mean it. I’m glad you were here with me to help take care of him. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jug chuckled at that, shaking his head, and retorted, “Yeah. I know. You fell asleep on me last night, by the way. I didn’t think I was going to be able to sneak off of the couch this morning without waking you up.”

“Well, apparently I pulled one from your playbook then, because that’s what I did to Klaus just a few minutes ago,” she said with a smile.

Jug reached out to flip the coffee pot off, reaching up into the cabinet above it to pull two mugs out and fill them both, leaving just enough room at the top of the mug to add their sugar and creamer to it.

“Thanks,” she told him.

Jug just nodded to her, passing her mug over to her as she went to fetch the creamer out of the fridge, and grabbed the sugar.

Kensi couldn’t help but giggle as she saw that Klaus kept three different open containers of creamer in the door of the fridge. It was just like him, being so indecisive about even the simplest things.

“What?” Jug asked as he scooped sugar into his own mug with a teaspoon.

“Did you know that Klaus keeps three different containers of creamer in his fridge at all times?” Kensi inquired.

“No, I didn’t,” Jug answered, “But I guess it makes sense. The man can never make his mind up about _anything._ It only makes sense that he would have three different open containers of creamer in his fridge. If I had to take a guess, I’d say he drinks a different one every day.”

Kensi nodded in agreement before questioning, “Well, which one do we want? Pumpkin Spice Latte? Peppermint Mocha? Or Amaretto?”

Jug couldn’t help but laugh at that, stating, “Yeah, he can deny it all he wants at the shop. But the secret it out now. He _definitely_ drinks ‘little white girl’ coffee.”

Kensi giggled, knowing that Jug would only add that little tidbit of information to the arsenal for later use when he and Klaus were working a shift together with her there at the coffee shop.

“Hmm…” Jug said, “Amaretto.”

Kensi nodded, snagging the jug and pulling it out of the fridge.

“So,” Jug hinted as they doctored up their coffee, “How are things with Tacoma?”

Kensi froze, her dark eyes widening, and Jug started to laugh.

“What?” he asked, “Don’t even _try_ to deny the fact that that was who you were texting when you slipped outside last night.”

Kensi scoffed at that, rolling her eyes at him and replying, “He was checking up on me.”

“Checking up on you?” Jug questioned, his dark brows knitting together.

She nodded, answering, “Yeah. He texted me to wish me a good night and ask me how my book was, the new one that I was all excited about? But I told him that I didn’t get a chance to really get into it when I got the call to come over here and babysit Klaus.”

Jug nodded, taking a long pull from his mug.

Kensi focused her dark eyes on the little whisps of cream floating on top of her coffee and finished, “Things went well, up until he started asking if he had to ‘worry’ about any of you guys with me.”

“Worry about us with you?” Jug inquired, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kensi looked up to find a horrified look on Jughead’s face and she shook her head, “Not like _that,_ Jug. Apparently, he was trying to figure out if any of you were competition or whatever. But I don’t know why he would think that. Hell, I’ve only known him for two days now.”

Jug nodded slowly, taking it all in, and finally replied, “Well, if he’s an alpha, it would explain it. I mean, alphas get like that sometimes where omegas are concerned.”

That was one of the reasons why she preferred Jug over other alphas when she was in heat. Jug wasn’t domineering or demanding. He wasn’t overly possessive or jealous. There were no strings attached between them. It was effortless and it was built on a mutual, trusting friendship that they had had for _years._ Kensi got offers from alpha males _all_ the time, some of them even coming from members of her father’s MC or random customers at the coffee shop, but she had never accepted any of them. She wasn’t ready to establish a bond of _any_ sort with a male just yet. She was still young, despite the fact that most omegas her age were already paired off, and she wasn’t ready to be tied down yet.

“So, he got jealous, and you called him out I’m guessing?” Jug said, shrugging, “Then what?”

“Then I told him how it was between you and me, that it wasn’t what he thought. And then I told him I had to get back to Klaus,” she said with a shrug, taking another pull from her coffee.

Jug shook his head, chuckling, and teased, “You always did know how to chase them off, didn’t you, Kens?”

She simply shrugged, and he asked her, “Did he text you back after that? Last night or this morning?”

“Yeah,” she told him, “He started off the morning with another apology. Just like yesterday morning.”

“I wouldn’t be too hard on him, Kens,” Jug advised, “The man’s an alpha male. If he likes you, he views _any_ male that’s around you to be a threat. I might not act like it bothers me, but there were a couple times that I wanted to beat Mac’s ass for trying to string you along.”

Kensi rolled her eyes at that, stating, “Please! I never took the bait, and you know it.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t still want to kick his ass for treating you like a simple piece of ass,” Jug countered.

Kensi nodded slowly, taking that information in. If Jug, the least domineering alpha male she’d ever known, wanted to beat some guy’s ass for trying to use her and lose her, she could only imagine how other alphas viewed the presence of other males that were around her.

“Look,” Jug concluded, “All I’m saying is don’t be too harsh on him. Not too many guys have the balls to pursue an actual relationship with you, Kensi.”

“Oh please!” she cried, scoffing and shaking her head, “This is _nothing_ like a relationship. Hell, I barely even know the guy! We’re just talking.”

“Yeah,” Jug said, a smirk tugging at his lips, “That’s how it always starts.”

Kensi rolled her dark eyes at him and opened her mouth to spout something back at him when they were interrupted as Klaus came shuffling into the kitchen with a bright pink, fuzzy bath robe and blue, fuzzy bunny slippers on the wrong feet, his brown curls standing up in every direction and his eyeliner smudged all over his face.

“Well, good morning to you too,” Klaus greeted them when both of them just stopped and stared at him for a second.

“You look like Roadkill Racoon,” Jug told him.

“Forsythe,” Klaus snarked, “It’s always so nice to see you. Tell me, did you manage to get your shoes clean yet?”

Kensi’s dark brows furrowed and she looked over at Jug, who shook his head at her and said, “Don’t ask.”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Klaus asked her.

“Tell me what?” Kensi inquired.

“I puked all over his shoes last night,” Klaus replied.

Kensi cringed, walking over to rinse her empty mug out before setting it in the sink.

She made her way over to steal a quick hug from Klaus and pressed a kiss to his cheek before patting it gently and telling him, “Well, on that note. I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta love you and leave you. Mom’s having Sunday dinner and if I don’t show up, she’ll hunt me down and kill me.”

Klaus laughed at that, smirking at her as he said, “Give Auntie Gem my love, will you? Tell her I’m sorry I can’t make it but I’m a little under the weather, yeah?”

Kensi nodded, assuring him, “I will. Now you two try not to burn the place down, all right? I’ll call and check in later.”

“See you later, Kens,” Jug called after her as she started out of the kitchen.

“Toodles, Kensalina!” Klaus hollered as she grabbed her keys off the coffee table and headed out the door.

“And you’d better have a _damn_ good excuse, or you’d better be there, Jughead Jones! You know how she feels about people skipping out on Sunday dinner!” she shouted back just before pulling the door to Klaus’s apartment closed behind her.

Kensi walked through the front door of her apartment, breathing a sigh of relief, though it was short-lived. She knew that she had to be at her mom’s by noon and it was already 10:15. She headed into the kitchen to see what she could throw together quickly to have it prepared for Sunday dinner with the club. She decided to fix scalloped corn, knowing that her mom was fixing meatloaf this weekend. She knew that her mother would be fixing the potatoes to go with the loaf, so she figured corn would go fine with what her mom had planned.

Once she had prepared the casserole, she threw it in the oven to let it bake while she went to change her clothes, fix her hair, and put on some makeup. Then she went back into the living room to kick her feet up while she waited.

She decided to check her phone while she was waiting, discovering that she had a couple missed text messages, both from Tacoma.

_Tacoma: Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart._

_Tacoma: So, what are your plans for the day? Doing anything special?_

She couldn’t help but smile as she read his first message. He just seemed like such a good guy, real calm and cool and down to earth. He was nothing like any of the alphas that she had ever known. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

She typed out a quick response, explaining, _Hey, sorry it’s taken me so long to reply, but Jug and I were making sure that Klaus was good before we headed out this morning. It was pretty rough last night._

Tacoma responded quickly, typing back, _I’m sorry to hear it. I won’t lie. I stayed up waiting to hear from you last night when you had to go take care of your friend. I never heard back from you until this morning._

_Kensi: Yeah. Sorry about that. I wound up passing out on the couch. Klaus curled right up to me and passed out, drooling all over me._

_Tacoma: So, do you have any plans for the day? Doing anything special?_

_Kensi: Well, I’m waiting for the dish I’m cooking to take to my mom’s Sunday dinner to finish baking at the moment. I have to be there by noon, or she’ll have my ass._

_Tacoma: Well, we can’t have that. What are you fixing?_

_Kensi: Scalloped corn. I made some assorted sweets for Sunday dinner when I got home Friday after work, so that part is covered at least. If I showed up to Sunday dinner without sweets, I’d never hear the end of it._

_Tacoma: Well, you’ll have to eat some for me._

_Kensi: I will. So, what are YOU doing on this fine Sunday morning?_

_Tacoma: I’m out in the garage, tinkering around with my bike. It’s been running a little rough the past couple days and I wanted to try to figure out what’s wrong with it._

_Kensi: And did you find out what was wrong with it?_

_Tacoma: Not quite yet. But I have a feeling I’m getting close._

_Kensi: What makes you say that?_

_Tacoma: Because there’s oil leaking all over my damn floor now._

Kensi giggled at that, replying, _Well, I hope you have a car or something to drive until you manage to get it fixed._

_Tacoma: I do. I have an old GTO._

_Kensi: Really? What year is it?_

_Tacoma: It’s a 69._

_Kensi: That’s what SHE said. ;)_

She quickly typed out another message to follow it.

_Kensi: Those were pretty sharp cars back then. I’ve always loved classic American muscle. I used to go to car shows every year with my dad when I was younger. But he eventually got too busy for it. Jug and I still go every summer though._

_Tacoma: NO fucking way! You like muscle cars too? Are you SURE you’re human? Cause you’re too damn good to be true._

_Kensi: Oh, I SERIOUSLY doubt that. But thank you. I think. What color is your car?_

_Tacoma: It was an ugly pea soup green when I got it, but I primered it and painted it a pretty shade of metallic blue._

_Kensi: She sounds GORGEOUS. You’ll have to show me a picture sometime._

_Tacoma: I can do that._

_Kensi: Well, I hate to cut and run again, but I’ve got to get that casserole out of the oven and get over to mom’s house with the corn and the baked goods or they might decide to hold the meatloaf for ransom._

_Tacoma: Oh! I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t pass up meatloaf either. Actually, I don’t pass up too much of anything, as far as food is concerned._

_Kensi: Is that your way of telling me that you’re a fatty?_

_Tacoma: Fuck no! I might not have a 6 pack of rock hard, washboard abs, but I am NOT fat. I guess you could say I’m kinda lean._

_Kensi: Well, the only thing fat about me is my butt._

_Tacoma: There’s NOTHING wrong with a woman with an ass. I love fat bottomed girls. TRUST me. ;)_

Kensi gave a single snort of laughter, rolling her eyes and shaking her head before typing back, _Whatever you say, Tacoma. I’ll catch you later._

_Tacoma: Catch you later, baby girl._

Kensi couldn’t help but smile at that. While she wasn’t usually too fond of little pet names, she quite liked that one in particular, especially when Tacoma used it.

She sighed, pushing herself up from the couch and sliding her phone into her back pocket before she made her way into the kitchen to grab the corn out of the oven and slide it into the heating bag. She slid the straps over her arm and went over to snag the plastic Tupperware container full of baked goods off of the counter before heading for the door and locking up again.

When Kensi arrived at her mother’s house, most of the guests were already there, which surprised her if she was honest, due to the fact that she was almost _always_ the first person there. Tig pulled the door open for her, the Sergeant at Arms grinning widely at her and waving grandly towards the inside of the house.

“Kensi’s here!” he announced loudly, prompting most of the house guests to start weaving their way out of the living room and into the hallway while she made her way into the kitchen to set the things she had brought down.

Tig was the first one to reach for the plastic Tupperware container that she had brought the baked goods in, but her father was quick to smack his hand away, scolding.

“Oi! Get your filthy hands back, mate! The first piece is mine!” the President of the club stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for debate, especially when it was paired by a rather harsh glare from those unforgiving, hazel eyes.

Kensi smiled at that, going over to wrap her arms around him even as he peeled the box open with one hand and held his other arm out towards her. He hugged her tightly with one arm while he reached into the box with the other and picked out one of her sweet treats.

She giggled as she pulled back from the hug to smile up at him.

“Mmm…” he hummed, “What’s this? It’s new.”

She smiled, stating, “I call them ‘magic bars’. They’re made with graham cracker crust, topped with milk chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, shredded coconut, chopped pecans, and evaporated milk to hold them together.”

“Well, I like them,” he informed her, “They’re fucking delicious, love.”

She beamed up at him and they stood back and watched as the rest of the club started to swat at each other and bicker over what they wanted to try first.

“Bunch of degenerates…” her father mumbled, making her laugh.

“So…” her father asked as he finished his treat, “What else have you got in there?”

“Oh, there are some cheesecake brownies, some buckeyes, some blond brownies, and some –,” she started to explain before she was interrupted when Chibs shouted, “Hey! You bastards! Get outta there! That pumpkin cookie is mine!”

“Ahh…” her father said, a slow grin curling at his lips, “I take it you made your famous pumpkin chocolate chip cookies again?”

“With cream cheese frosting,” Chibs mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.

“Get back! Get back!” Gemma cried, swatting the men’s hands away with a plastic spatula before shooing them back a couple steps so that she could take her pick from the assortment of goodies.

Kensi couldn’t help but laugh at the way the men grumbled but stood back and waited until the matriarch of the club had gotten what she wanted. Then they swooped right back in like vultures again.

While her mother might have been an omega, _nobody_ messed with Gemma Teller-Malone.

“So…” her mother asked, “Where’s Mr. Jones?”

Kensi shrugged her shoulders, replying, “I warned him what would happen if he didn’t show up.”

“He’s here!” Jug called as he walked down the hall, a case of beer tucked under each arm.

“Hey, brother!” all the guys greeted, going over to ruffle his shaggy, raven-colored hair or clap him on the shoulder.

Chibs and Tig took the beer from him and set it up on the kitchen counter.

Gemma turned to point a knife at him, pausing in her duties carving the meatloaf as she told him, “You’re lucky you’re two minutes early. Had you been late, you would’ve had to do the damn dishes.”

Jug gave her a sheepish grin but nodded, telling her, “Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t _dream_ of showing up late to one of your dinners.”

“The only excuse she’d ever accept is if you were dead or dying, Juggie,” Kensi’s father informed the boy as he went to drape one arm over Jug’s shoulders, using his free hand to snag another sweet treat.

“Hey!” Gemma scolded, “You boys stop your snacking! This is almost done. Now help me get this shit over to the counter!”

A chorus of “Yes, ma’am” and “Sure thing, Gem” was heard from all of the men as they began to grab bowls and platters and carry them over to arrange them on top of the kitchen counter there in the middle of the room.

“So…” Gemma hinted once they had all gotten their plates filled and had taken a seat at the massive dining room table that the men had put together, “Klaus tells me that you’ve been talking to some boy.”

Kensi looked up to find her mother’s hazel eyes locked on her, like a hawk staring down its prey right before it went in for the kill.

Kensi slid the bite of meatloaf she had just stabbed with her fork into her mouth, chewing slowly as she tried to think of how best to answer the unspoken question she sensed brewing somewhere in that statement.

She shot her dark eyes over to Jug, who was staring back at her with his green eyes wide, the look on his face equal parts horrified and shocked. She looked around the table, finding that each man sitting around the table had their eyes fixed on her, waiting for the shoe to drop.

Kensi finally brought her eyes back to her mother to discover that she was cocking one dark brow at her expectantly.

Kensi cleared her throat and reached out for her lemonade to take a sip from it before she mumbled, “Well, I mean, it was just some guy that texted me Friday night. But he had the wrong number.”

Gemma nodded slowly before stating, “Well, Klaus said you two have been talking all weekend.”

She was going to strangle the shit out of Klaus the next time she saw that little rat bastard.

All of the men at the table raised their eyebrows at her and her mother prompted, “He must have been interesting at the very least if you talked to him all weekend.”

Kensi sighed. She hated Sunday dinner. She really did. But she still had yet to figure out a reasonable excuse to get it out of it.

“He seems like a nice guy,” was all Kensi said.

“Oh,” Tig mimicked in a rather high pitch, “He’s a nice guy.”

Kensi glared over at the club’s Sergeant at Arms and spouted back, “And he’s much more mature than any of you, with the exception of Chibs and maybe Bobby.”

“Is that right?” her father questioned.

“I didn’t mean you, daddy,” Kensi replied, “I just… I get so fucking sick of coming to these damn dinners just to get cornered and questioned about my love life – or lack thereof.”

“Well, you know how to solve that little problem,” Jax razzed playfully.

“I suppose I do,” Kensi retorted, “I could go out spreading my legs for every Tom, Dick, and Harry that would have me. Is that what you expect of me? To just put out for anyone like some fucking crow eater?”

“What? No!” Jax cried, “That’s not what I meant –,”

“I bring a friend here and you all try to insinuate that I’m dating him, which I’m _not,_ by the way,” Kensi spat, “I turn down guys and you think I’m a lesbian. I try to have a simple conversation with some guy, and you all think that you can just go and set me up with him. Or worse, you try to set me up on some stupid fucking blind date with some guy I don’t even know. Jesus fucking Christ! Would you just make up your mind already? Because your fucking mood swings are giving me whiplash!”

“Now, honey –,” her mother started before Kensi cut her off, pushing herself from her place at the table and getting to her feet, only to throw her napkin down on her plate as she insisted, “I’m 25, not fucking 50. I’m not some old spinster. I’m not ready to settle down yet. I haven’t found the right guy yet and I am _so_ not ready to start popping out babies yet. So, whatever you’re all thinking, just fucking stop. It’s _my_ life, not yours. I did everything you asked of me. I got good grades in school. I went to college. I opened my own shop and I pay my own bills and I don’t ask for a _fucking_ thing from any of you. But you all just sit around talking about how I need to find some alpha to stake his claim on me, to tie me down and possess me like some fucking piece of property –,”

“That is _not_ what we want –,” her father tried to clarify, but she only kept going, finally concluding with, “But I honestly don’t think any of you even fucking care what that alpha is even like or if I even feel anything for him at all! You don’t give a _damn_ about what I want! I swear, I am _so_ fucking sick of everyone else trying to run my life for me! So why don’t you all just take a step back for once and just let me fucking breathe?! I’ve done _just_ fine so far I’d say.”

She was in tears by the time she finished, her chest heaving in her anger as she glared around the table before her dark eyes landed on her mother in particular.

Then she turned and stormed out of the room, running down the hall and out the front door to her car.

“Well…” Tig stated, “I think that could’ve gone better.”

“Jesus…” Gemma sighed as they heard the tires squeal as Kensi pulled out of the drive and peeled down the street, “Go after her, Jug.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Malone, I don’t think that would go over very well right now. She’ll call me when she’s ready to talk,” Jughead said before slipping out of his own seat and heading out of the room.

Kensi pulled up in front of her apartment, her hands shaking on the steering wheel and her vision blurred. She turned off the ignition and reached up to wipe at her eyes, giving a little sniffle before she took a deep breath and swallowed hard to force the heavy lump in her throat down.

She had _never_ made a scene like that at any of the family get togethers that her mother had thrown over the years, but she just… God, she just got so damn _mad!_ She was so sick and fucking tired of everyone trying to tell her how to live _her_ fucking life!

She drew in another deep breath to calm her nerves before pushing her door open and climbing out of the car. She pressed the button on her keys to lock the doors of her Skyline as she headed up the walkway towards her apartment.

She was fiddling with her keys, trying to find the right one for her apartment, when she ran smack dab into something, jerking backwards and cursing, “Oh! Shit!”

She jerked her head up to find a tall man that was probably in his mid to late 20s standing in front of her, both of his hands wrapped around her arms to keep her from falling over backwards.

“Oh, I’m _so_ sorry!” she apologized, “I wasn’t looking where I was going and – ,”

“Are you all right, miss?” he asked her, his dark eyes peering down at her as his brows knitted together in concern.

She laughed, rolling her eyes at herself, and replied, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

But he just narrowed his eyes, studying her closer for a moment, much to her dismay, before he reached out to gently brush a tear from her lashes, pointing out, “You’re not fine. You’ve been crying.”

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her skin on fire where he had touched her, before she managed to recompose herself, gazing up at him and finding those dark eyes watching her closely. Those eyes were so dark they were such a deep, dark shade of brown that they were nearly black in color.

“Yeah, well,” she sighed, “It’s been a really rough morning. And last night wasn’t so great either to be honest. Just a bunch of family drama and shit. But you don’t really wanna hear about that. _Trust_ me. I’m not usually like this. Well, to be honest, I’m _never_ like this…”

She trailed off, realizing that she was rambling, and gave a sheepish smile, her cheeks flaming.

“Sorry,” she apologized once more.

“Don’t apologize,” he told her, “I ran right into you. _I’m_ the one who should be saying sorry. I’m the new guy, by the way. I’m moving into 222.”

She smiled up at him, nodding, but didn’t say another word. She’d already made a big enough fool of herself for one day, especially where the tall, dark, handsome male was concerned.

God, she was so close she could smell him. Hell, she could practically _taste_ him, and it did the most embarrassing things to her hormones. Her nostrils flared as she greedily drank in the scent of him, dark and musky, like amber and sandalwood. She nearly moaned at just the smell of him alone, her mouth watering and her body trembling slightly as she watched his nostrils flare and the muscle in his jaw tick as his teeth clenched tight.

Then she _did_ whimper when the musky scent of his arousal wafted towards her, setting her senses alight. God, he was all alpha male, strong and firm and tall and lean. He watched her with those cool, calculating, dark chocolate eyes. He was all slender cheeks and firm jawlines and short, trimmed beard, all slicked back, jet black hair and sun-bronzed skin and full lips –

“Are you okay?” he asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.

“Who? Me?” she inquired before giving a quick, jerky nod, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. I am _great.”_

“Uh huh,” he said slowly, nodding his head just as slowly as he watched her while he eased his hands off of her arms, “See, you _say_ that. But I’m just not quite sure if I’m buying it.”

God, why couldn’t he just let her go run to her apartment so that she could hide under the covers and hibernate for… Oh, maybe a week or two at least, long enough that she could manage to recollect what was left of her dignity and try to piece it back together.

But then he did the damnedest thing. He smiled down at her, revealing straight, white teeth and the cutest little dimples that framed those full lips. She had to swallow down a cringe-worthy sigh as it threatened to escape her.

“Well, I um… I better let you get back to… well, whatever it was that you were doing. Sorry for running into you. It was nice meeting you!” she said before she quickly turned and started back down the walkway towards her apartment, her insides fluttering the whole way.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” she cried to herself quietly as she reached her front door and started to unlock it, “What the literal fuck is wrong with you?!”

Kensi Malone had not _ever_ gotten all girly over some guy. Not _ever!_

When she _finally_ managed to make it in the door successfully, she was quick to close it behind her, her body sagging slightly as the adrenaline wore off and reality caught up to her. My God, he had to think she was the world’s biggest idiot! Hell, she hadn’t even told him her name!

She took a deep breath, then another, before she nodded to herself and pushed herself off of the door. She needed some coffee, a nice, warm blanket, and some fuzzy socks. And maybe some chocolate wouldn’t hurt.

Kensi was just sitting down on the couch after a nice, long, hot shower when her phone went off. She reached out for it, typing in her passcode and selecting her messages. She found a new one from Halle waiting in her inbox and opened it.

_Halle: Hey, girl. You up for some pizza? Consider it an apology for making you take second watch with Klaus last night. I’m on my way now, 10 minutes out._

Kensi smiled to herself. Her mother must have already contacted her and told her about the meltdown she’d had at dinner..

 _Sure,_ she texted back.

Kensi sighed and pushed herself up from the couch, heading into the kitchen in search of the paper plates. She set a couple plates and a small stack of napkins on the coffee table there in the living room before heading back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of Mountain Dew for both of the girls.

She was just shuffling back into the living room when there was a knock at the door.

Assuming it was Halle, she shuffled over to the door and pulled it open, only to get the shock of a lifetime. Her new neighbor was standing there, just outside her door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his stonewashed jeans as he waited for her to answer the door.

“Hello again,” he greeted her, those dashing little dimples framing his delicious looking mouth as he smiled down at her.

“Uh… Hi,” she practically squeaked.

God, why did he have to show up now?! There she was, standing in sweatpants and a black tank top without a bra underneath of it., her feet bare, sparkly, dark purple toenails peeking out. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.

“You kinda skipped out before we made proper introductions back there,” he said, gesturing with a jerk of his thumb in the general direction of where they had been standing on the sidewalk just half an hour ago.

“Yeah…” she admitted, “Sorry about that.”

He just laughed, shaking his head, and replied, “I just thought I’d come by and properly introduce myself this time.”

He held one hand out to her, and she accepted it, reaching for it slowly.

“It’s not gonna bite you,” he teased, a playful glint lighting those dark eyes, “I’m Jameson Iverson, but my friends call me Jay or Jaime.”

“Kensi,” she told him, sliding her small hand into his larger one.

His hand was warm, his grip firm but not harsh. His hands were calloused, no doubt from working long hours.

“Does Kensi have a last name?” he bantered playfully, that dazzling smile curling at his lips once more as he tried to tease the answer out of her.

She blushed, lowering her eyes to the floor, but nodded, explaining, “She does. But if she tells you, you won’t ever speak to her again.”

She chanced a quick glance back up at him again to find his dark brows furrowed, that dark chocolate gaze fixed on her.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Because it happens every time I introduce myself to someone in this damn town,” she answered on a sigh, “Charming is a small town. Everybody knows everybody’s business. Don’t get me wrong, I love Charming. I grew up here. I’ve lived here my whole life. But all I have to do is mention my last name and people scatter in the wind.”

“Well,” he informed her, “I, for one, can completely understand where you’re coming from. My older brother’s reputation back home preceded me. I had to work _twice_ as hard to prove to all of them that I wasn’t anything like him. But I had finally had enough, and I thought a little change in scenery would do me some good. Hence the move.”

She smiled at that, reaching up to brush a stray strand of her long, dark hair behind her ear, and nodded.

“I know the feeling,” Kensi agreed, “Except, with me, it’s not just my brother, it’s my whole damn family. Most days, I love it here in Charming. But some days, I’d just like to pack all of my shit and move out of state, never look back.”

She cringed when she realized how it sounded though, seeing his dark brows knit together, and quickly added, “Wow. That sounds harsher than I meant it to.”

But Jaime just shook his head, stating, “No, no, not at all. That’s _exactly_ what I did. That’s how I ended up here in Charming.”

She nodded, saying, “Yeah. It’s just kind of hard to make a name for yourself when you’re living in someone else’s shadow.”

He nodded, agreeing, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

But then he switched topics, inquiring, “So… I was just about to grab lunch, but I wasn’t quite sure what’s good around here. I was wondering if maybe you had some recommendations?”

Kensi laughed at that, nodding, and replied, “Well, say no more. This girl _loves_ her food. Let’s see… There’s Sal’s Diner, down on Main Street. They serve all _kinds_ of home-cooked meals, anything you could ask for. Or there’s O’Dell’s sub shop down on Peach Tree. They’re better than Subway, if you ask me. There’s a McDonald’s on Cedar or a Denny’s on Dirksen. There’s even a Burger King and a Taco Bell on Morton Avenue. But most of the places around here are mom and pop shops.”

Jaime nodded at that, prompting, “And what’s your favorite?”

“Honestly, I prefer Angelo’s, down on 5th Avenue. They have the _best_ damn Italian food I’ve ever eaten,” she told him, “They serve everything – spaghetti, lasagna, toasted ravioli, mostaccioli, fettuccini alfredo, you name it. They have the _best_ damn pizza you’ll ever eat.”

“Well,” he decided, “That sounds like a winner.”

“Did someone say pizza?” she heard a familiar voice pipe up from just behind her new neighbor.

Jaime was quick to move aside, his dark eyes landing on Halle, and apologize, “Oh! I’m sorry. Am I in your way?”

“No, no, not at all,” she said, shaking her head and laughing, “But if you get in between Kensi and this pizza, there _just_ might be a problem.”

His dark brows rose, and he turned his gaze from Halle back to Kensi, who was now blushing and shuffling her weight from one foot to the other.

“Hey, Kens,” Halle greeted her, “I come bearing gifts, just as promised. Where can I set this thing down? This sucker’s _hot!”_

Kensi moved aside, gesturing to the coffee table, where she had their plates and napkins waiting, and Halle headed that way.

“Well,” Jaime announced, “I won’t keep you. I see you’ve got company, so I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Won’t you join us?” Halle inquired, turning back to face them once she had set the pizza down, “We’ve got plenty here. I got an order of cheese sticks and extra marinara sauce. And I know Kensi has some goodies hidden around here somewhere.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t intrude,” Jaime protested, shaking his head and waving dismissively at the idea.

“It’s not a problem,” Halle insisted, even as Kensi murmured quietly enough for just him to hear, “Really, Jaime, it’s fine. We can never finish a pizza by ourselves anyway.”

“Besides,” Halle continued on as she started making a plate for herself, “We could use a human garbage disposal. Jug’s tinkering with his stupid bike, Priestly’s on a grocery run, and Klaus isn’t feeling up to company at the moment.”

Jaime’s brows rose at that and Kensi rolled her eyes at her friend as Halle went to go plop down on the couch, her gray eyes trained on Jaime as he stood, still undecided, just outside Kensi’s doorway.

“Really, Jaime,” Kensi assured him, “It’s not a problem.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, his eyes finding the open box of pizza and his nostrils flaring, as if trying to capture the scent from across the room.

“I’m sure,” Kensi replied, knowing that he was already sold on the idea.

“Okay then,” he said, following Kensi’s hand as she gestured for him to come in and making his way over to the open boxes that were laid out on the coffee table.

Kensi closed the door behind him, shuffling over to hand him the other plate she had had laid out before disappearing into the kitchen to grab another one and fetch her new guest a drink.

When she made her way back into the living room, she found Jaime seated in one of her recliners, a plate perched on his lap as Halle drilled him with questions.

“So…” Halle questioned, “What’s your name?”

“Hal, leave the poor man be. You invited him in to eat but you’re not even giving him a chance to do so,” Kensi pointed out.

“Fine,” Halle decided, “He can answer my questions after he eats.”

Kensi rolled her dark eyes, making her way over to the coffee table and swatting her friend’s feet off of it before she started fixing up her own plate.

Surprisingly enough, once they had finished their lunch, Halle was quick to make an excuse and head out, which left Kensi not only confused but also speechless. She had figured that Halle would have made her new neighbor sit through a rather rigorous series of prying, personal questions. But, instead, she had said her goodbyes and headed out before Kensi even had the chance to protest, leaving Kensi stranded with her hot new neighbor.

“Well,” Jaime stated once Halle had left, “She’s certainly an interesting individual.”

She just laughed, nodding, and replied, “That’s one way to put it.”

He chuckled too then, and Kensi informed him, “Not everyone can handle Halle. She’s definitely different. But we’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. I just can’t seem to shake her.”

Jaime laughed heartily at that before stating, “Well, it’s nice that you have someone like that, a partner in crime or whatever you want to call it.”

Kensi didn’t know what to say to that.

“Yeah, we’ve been arrested a couple times…” just didn’t seem like a very good conversation starter.

While it was accurate, she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.

So she just nodded, explaining, “Yeah. You could call her that. She’s a bit crazy,, but she’s a good wing woman though.”

Jaime nodded, then surprised her by saying, “Well, maybe I’ll get to meet the rest of the gang someday.”

Kensi was caught off guard by that comment, but she was quick to recompose herself.

She nodded, telling him, “I’m sure you will. They’re in and out of here all the time.”

He smiled at her before pushing himself up from his seat, insisting, “Well, I don’t want to keep you from the rest of your afternoon.Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Malone.”

She just laughed, shaking her head, and replied, “You can call me Kensi. Everyone else does.”

“Kensi it is then,” he said, starting for the door.

“Would you like something to take with you?” she inquired, “I have a stash of baked goods out in the kitchen. I have to hide them if I want to keep any for myself. Everyone else knows where I keep the ones I share.”

Jaime chuckled but followed her into the kitchen as she went to go pull a plastic Tupperware container down from the top of the fridge.

Kensi stood on the tips of her toes, her fingers just brushing the plastic, which was _just_ out of her reach, and Jaime walked over to help her, the fingers of one hand curling around her side to hold her steady even as his other hand grabbed the container and brought it down where she could reach it.

“Thank you…” she replied, a little breathless as his touch sent little jolts through her system and butterflies soaring in her stomach.

“Well, I couldn’t just sit back and watch you struggle,” he replied as she pulled the top off of the container to show him what was inside.

He reached in and grabbed a blonde brownie and a pumpkin chocolate chip cookie, offering a quick, “Thank you.”

She nodded to him, placing the lid back onto the container and setting it on the countertop.

Jaime took a bite of the brownie first, groaning at the taste of it, and exclaimed, “My God! This is _delicious!_ Did you make these yourself?”

She nodded in response, explaining, “I did. I run my own coffee shop. It’s down on the square, on the corner of Main and 5th Avenue. I sell baked goods there too.”

“Well, I can see that I’ll definitely have to make regular trips down there,” he said, making her laugh.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she told him.

“As you should,” he informed her.

Then he started out of the kitchen, stating, “Well, thanks again, Kensi. I really appreciate the invite. I’ll see you around then?”

Kensi just smiled as he turned, once he had made it to the front door of her apartment, those dark eyes finding her once more.

“Maybe,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips as she tried to hold back the larger one that threatened to break loose.

“I’ll see you,” he decided aloud, grinning back at her as he opened the door and headed out.

“I’ll see you…” she agreed, once he had pulled the door closed behind him, the massive smile finally stretching across her face as she set it free.

Maybe her day was starting to shape up after all.

Kensi’s phone buzzed beside her as she was lounging on the couch later that evening.

She reached out for it, unlocking her phone and pulling up the most recent text she had received.

_Tacoma: Well, how was dinner?_

She typed out a quick response, replying, _Ugh! Don’t ask._

_Tacoma: All right. I won’t. I’m sorry for whatever happened._

_Kensi: It’s not your fault. Just my mom trying to play matchmaker again. Apparently, she’s afraid I’m gonna die an old spinster or something._

_Tacoma: Oh. I’m sorry._

_Kensi: Yeah. It got kinda ugly. I actually wound up leaving halfway through the meal._

_Tacoma: Wow. That bad huh?_

_Kensi: That bad._

_Tacoma: Well, maybe I can help cheer you up?_

_Kensi: I’m fine now. As it turns out, Halle came over with pizza this afternoon after she heard how dinner went and she wound up inviting my new neighbor in for lunch with us._

_Tacoma: Ahh… Well, pizza helps. What’s your new neighbor like? Do you like her?_

_Kensi: Actually, it’s a HE, not a she. And yes, he seems really nice, very attractive actually._

Kozik bristled at the idea of another male trying to weasel his way in on California.

_Kozik: Is that so?_

_California: Yeah. He’s very polite, especially compared to the guys I’m used to. He seems like a genuinely nice guy. I feel kinda bad having run into him this afternoon on my way back from mom’s dinner. I was still upset, and I was crying when I ran right into him. In my defense though, I was fiddling with my keys, trying to find the key to my apartment, so I wasn’t looking where I was going._

Kozik’s brows furrowed at that. She’d been so upset she was crying? He hated the thought of her being upset, hated the thought that he couldn’t be there for her physically, especially if she was that overwhelmed. His chest squeezed tight at the thought of the little omega suffering without her alpha. But then, it wasn’t his place, he supposed. He wasn’t her alpha, not yet at least.

_Kozik: Well, I’m sorry it was so rough. But I’m sure he deserved it. Lol._

_California: No. The poor guy even reached out to steady me, so I didn’t fall on my ass. It was quite embarrassing really._

Kozik growled at the thought of another man putting his hands on California. He didn’t like it, not at all, especially if he was living so close to her. And it didn’t help that she would soon be going into heat again either. Any alpha male that could pick up her scent would be eager to mount her then.

_Kozik: Yeah, well, just be careful, okay? You said you’ll be coming into heat soon, and I know how most guys think. I am one, after all._

_California: I’m a smart girl, Tacoma. I can take care of myself._

_Kozik: I’m sure you can, but just promise me that you’ll be safe._

_California: All right. I promise. Besides, Jug usually stays with me while I’m in heat. It’s just easier for both of us and he knows that I’m more comfortable here at home where I can build a nest with familiar blankets and pillows and such._

_Kozik: Well, I’m glad you have an alpha like that to take care of you._

Though, admittedly, he would have rather it been _him_ instead.

_California: And by the way, you might be a man, but you’re different, Tacoma. You’re not like all the rest._

His brows furrowed at that. What did she mean by that? He typed out a quick response.

_Kozik: I hope that’s a good thing._

_California: Definitely. I can talk to you. I can share things about myself with you. I can’t do that with other people. My closest friends are the only ones that I ever talk to about my personal life, the only ones that truly know me, other than you, of course. I don’t know how to explain it. When I talk to you, it’s like I’ve known you my whole life. I know it sounds stupid or cheesy or whatever, but I feel like I’ve known you for a long time. The conversations are just really smooth and effortless, if that makes sense?_

Kozik nodded. It made _perfect_ sense. He’d been feeling it too.

_Kozik: It does. And I agree. You sound like me. You don’t like to let people get close to you._

_California: With my life, my family, that’s damn near impossible._

_Kozik: I know the feeling, baby girl._

_California: I like it when you call me that._

He smiled at that. He couldn’t help it.

_Kozik: Good, because I intend to keep doing it._

_California: :)_

_Kozik: So, what are you doing now?_

_California: Just hanging out on the couch. I really don’t feel like talking to anyone._

_Kozik: I can let you go if you want._

_California: No, no! I didn’t mean you. I just meant people in general, my friends, my family, my mom in particular. But I don’t mind talking to you. Actually, I quite enjoy it._

It brought a smile to his face, hearing her say that.

_Kozik: Good. I’m glad I’m not the only one that enjoys our little conversations. At least, when you’re not chewing my ass. :P_

_California: Only when you deserve it. :P_

He chuckled at that.

_Kozik: I’ll give you that one._

_California: So, did you get your bike sorted out?_

_Kozik: Yeah, I finally figured out where it was leaking. I’m gonna need a new oil tank._

_California: Ouch. I bet that’s not gonna be cheap._

_Kozik: Not too terrible. We get a pretty good deal from our parts dealer here in town. Besides, I’ve gotta have it or the bike won’t run._

_California: I’ll take your word for it. I don’t know much about mechanics. I can check the oil, change the oil, or change a flat tire. That’s about it._

He smiled at that. He wouldn’t mind working on her car any time she needed it. Of course, he wouldn’t mind giving _her_ an oil change either.

He shook his head at himself. Man, he needed to get his head out of the gutter.

_Kozik: Well, you’ve got most of the population beat then. Lol._

_California: I’m just glad I know several mechanics here in town._

Well, there went that idea.

_Kozik: Oh you do?_

_California: Yeah, actually my brother, my father, and most of the men that work for my father are pretty good mechanics. My mom and my dad opened their own bar and a mechanic shop._

His brows rose at that.

_Kozik: Well, it sounds like you guys are all a bunch of successful entrepreneurs._

_California: You could say that. My parents have a LOT of influence here in town._

_Kozik: Well, I can see why._

She was silent for a few moments, prompting him to ask, _You fall asleep on me, baby girl?_

_California: No, just fixing some chocolate milk. I drink a glass of it every night before bed._

Kozik smiled at that. She was just a big kid at heart.

_Kozik: Drink some for me?_

_California: Will do._

_Kozik: So, you mentioned you had some ink. Could I see it? If that’s okay?_

_California: Yeah. Just a sec._

There was a long silence before pictures started popping up on his phone.

He opened the first one, finding an elegant but simple mandala tattoo on her left ankle and foot, with the words _They’re a matching set_ typed just beneath the picture.

Then there were a couple of intricately designed butterflies, one blue and the other pink, inked into the inside of her left wrist. Her right wrist was covered in elaborate vines and colorful lilies that wrapped all the way around her wrist and trailed down the length of her arm on either side, all the way up to her elbow. She had a string of small, black birds etched across her collarbone and her shoulder on either side. But her back was the real canvas. There were locusts, bright blue and purple and pink, that were floating in a pool of water.

Kozik couldn’t help but smile. Despite how tough she talked, there was apparently a softer, girly side underneath. He also noticed that she had purposefully angled the camera in the last picture so that it didn’t show her face, but he still saw the long, dark brown waves that she had swept over one shoulder. So, she was a brunette. That just sealed the deal for him. He’d always been a sucker for brunettes.

_Kozik: I love the ink. I think it’s safe to rule you being a granny out though. I guess I can add “hippy girl" to your description though._

_California: Lol. Yeah, that’s me. *rolls eyes*_

_Kozik: So, you’re like some super sneaky ninja assassin hippy girl._

_California: Not hardly. But I DO know how to fire a gun when needed._

Kozik's brows hiked up his forehead at that.

_Kozik: I can’t say that that’s not a turn on. But remind me never to piss you off._

_California: Lol._

_Kozik: Nothing wrong with a girl that can handle herself, especially if she comes with some really cool ink. ;)_

_Calfornia: So, does Mr. Harley Davidson come with ink?_

_Kozik: I do._

He snapped a picture of the tribal tattoos on either of his biceps and his forearms and sent them to her, but he chose not to show her the one on his neck or the Sons of Anarchy one that stretched all the way down his back. He didn’t want to freak her out, and he wasn’t quite ready to tell her who he was or who he was affiliated with yet.

It wasn’t two minutes later that she had texted him back.

_California: Wow. I really like those designs. Most guys that wear tribal tats are wimpy ass wannabes. But, from what I can see, it looks like you pull them off pretty well._

He couldn’t help but smile at that.

He took a picture of the tattoo that stretched across his chest, inked in bright red, white, and blue and decorated like the American flag were the bold, italicized words “Semper Fidelis". The tattoo started just under his collarbone and spanning clear across his chest, from one shoulder to the other. It was a proud testament of his time served as a Marine.

He sent the picture once he was sure that his face wasn’t showing. Then he sent a text to follow it.

_Kozik: I have a couple others but they’re harder to get pictures of._

_California: WOW… That is REALLY cool. I really like it._

Then another text came through.

_California: Oh REALLY? Does it grow?_

Kozik chuckled at that, shaking his head, and texted back, _No, no. Nothing like THAT._

_California: Well, damn. And here I thought I was gonna get a dick pic. :P_

_Kozik: Sorry, sweetheart. Not really my style. Lol._

_California: That’s okay. Believe it or not, I’ve never sent a picture like that to anyone either. I guess I’ve never trusted a guy enough to share something like that with him. Who knows what a guy might do with pictures like those?_

_Kozik: Well, I think we BOTH know what a guy might do with those. ;) Lol._

_California: Well, yeah, obviously. But I would never want a guy to share pictures of me like that with his buddies or post them online or anything like that. I’ve heard of stuff like that happening to other girls._

_Kozik: Then they put their trust in the wrong guy._

_California: I guess so._

_Kozik: So, I noticed you’re a brunette. Or did you dye your hair?_

_California: No, it’s all me. I was born a brunette. Both of my parents are, so it came as no surprise that I am too. My half-brother is a blonde though, like his dad._

_Kozik: I’ve always preferred brunettes to be honest._

_California: Contrary to what some people might tell you, we brunettes have more fun and more of a backbone than anyone else._

_Kozik: That could be the Irish blood talking. Lol._

_California: It could be. But it also happens to be true._

_Kozik: So, you have long, dark brown hair and what color eyes?_

_California: Boring old brown. They’re like a warm shade of chocolate._

_Kozik: I’m sure they’re very pretty, if they’re anything like the rest of you. Besides, NOTHING about you is boring._

_California: Lol. If you say so._

_Kozik: I do. In fact, I insist._

_California: All right, Casanova, what do YOU look like?_

_Kozik: Well, I guess you could say I have dirty blonde hair. It’s not quite blonde but not quite brown. It’s short, kinda spikey. And I have blue eyes. At least, that’s what my driver’s license says, but they look more gray to me._

_California: Well, looks aren’t all that important to me, never really have been. I care much more about a man’s personality and whether or not we’re compatible with each other. But I have to admit, I’ve always been a sucker for blue eyes and tattoos._

_Kozik: Is that so? Then it sounds like I’m in luck. :)_

He sent her a thumbs up too.

_California: Yeah? We shall see, Tacoma._

_Kozik: Yes, we shall see._

_California: Well, I hate to love you and leave you, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to call it a night._

_Kozik: Yeah, I should probably turn in too. I’ve gotta open the shop tomorrow so I’ve gotta be there by 7:30._

_California: Well, good night, Tacoma._

_Kozik: Good night, beautiful._

Kozik smiled as he reached out to plug his phone into the charger for the night, setting it on his nightstand. Then he turned off the lamp and got settled under the covers.

One thought struck him just before he drifted off to sleep. He was well and truly screwed. The more he started to learn about California, the more he liked her, which meant that he would inevitably have to tell her who he was and who he worked for. And that would most likely wind up scaring her off. But he wouldn’t worry about that just yet. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.


End file.
